Monday, June 20, 2011

home owners: day 1

so today . . . is a new day. today i will not lock myself out of the house. i hope. today will be day one of home ownership!

our house is wonderful. it is beautiful. but it isn't perfect. it was built in 1967 (the same year that my mom and dad built their house. i find this to be an interesting coincidence. i don't remember a lot of details about my childhood, but i vividly remember that house being built. i remember the big empty rooms, the soft dust in the backyard, and eating a lot of meals at a&w. i remember being there late at night while my mom stained and varnished miles of woodwork. i don't exactly remember my dad painting, but i'm pretty sure he did--he is a painter! why would he pay someone else to do that!) and so it was time for some updating. while remodeling had been done on the first floor, the upstairs had been pretty much ignored. we had managed to save up some money for improvements, and today was the day i was going to get estimates from EVERYONE. then i planned to look at the estimates, decide what we could afford to have done, and get things scheduled. i figured we would be in our house by the end of the week, improvements completed.

i am so naive.

of course, it didn't help that i couldn't get into the house this morning until the locksmith arrived! he was scheduled to come at 9:00 a.m. so was the painter. i had scheduled the painter a few days ago, before i knew i was going to NEED a locksmith first thing monday morning. and then the carpet guy from home depot was going to come at 10:00. the shutter guy was coming at 11:00 and the window guy was coming at noon. oh, and the salvation army was supposed to come and pick up all the stuff left by the sellers sometime during the day...

yes, the sellers left a bunch of stuff in the garage. apparently no one wanted it. i sure didn't want it! the only thing they had that i wanted were the cool stools that were at the kitchen counter. of course, they took those, along with all the toilet paper...

when we did our final walk through last monday, the house was supposed to be empty. it wasn't. of course. the ex-wife's attorney had acquired an order that prohibited any furniture from being removed from the property. this made the sellers mad! really mad!! "she took 80 percent of the furniture when she moved out, and now she wants more?!?!?!" was the general sentiment. they were all supposed to meet at the house last friday and decide who was going to get what (doesn't that sound like fun??) but apparently when the dust settled, there were some things that no one wanted, so they just left them in the garage and arranged for the salvation army to pick them up today. which would have been fine, except someone needed to be there to let the salvation army into the garage! i quickly volunteered. rollie would be at work, and somehow i didn't think it would be a good thing to have the seller's sister hanging around all day while i was getting work estimates...

i got to the house just before 9:00, and the painter arrived a few minutes later. i explained to him why we had to sit on the front step instead of going into the house. he just smiled and said, "ok, no problem." he says no problem a lot. he is the most agreeable man i know. and he knows me, so when i told him i had locked us out of the house within hours of getting the keys, he didn't seem all that surprised...

we waited. and waited. i decided we could at least talk about the outside painting, so we did. that took about 10 minutes. and then we waited some more. finally about 9:45 a guy showed up with a clipboard. "hi!" i said, "you must be the locksmith!" "nooo," he said, "i'm here to measure for carpet." i explained that we were waiting for a locksmith to let us in, and he said, "how did you lock yourself out?"

why do people ask me this? it is irrelevant! does it matter how i locked myself out? no. no it doesn't. the only relevant fact for the carpet guy was that we couldn't get in, which might make him late for his next appointment. but short of saying, "it's none of your business," there was no way to avoid the question, so i told him. he smirked and shook his head.

we waited. and waited. the carpet guy kept looking at his watch and rolling his eyes. he said, "do you even know if he is coming?!?" i did not like the carpet guy. i know he had a schedule and all, but he was kind of condescending and mean. so i called, and the locksmith said he was on his way and would be there in 5 minutes. this elicited another smirk and eye roll from the carpet guy. "i've heard THAT before," he said, "they always say 5 minutes..."

i hate to admit it, but the carpet guy was right. twenty minutes later the locksmith showed up. and he seemed to be in no hurry. he got his tools out of his truck and sauntered to the front door. and then, for the third time today, i was asked, "how did you lock yourself out?"

"WHO CARES?!??! WHO CARES HOW I LOCKED MYSELF OUT?!?!? I JUST DID. JUST GET ME INTO MY HOUSE!!!!!"

no, i didn't yell that, but i was certainly thinking it. so i edited the story and told it again. and the locksmith continued to try to break into my house. and the carpet guy continued to look at his watch every three minutes. and the painter continued to wait patiently and smile whenever i looked at him. i was beginning to love the painter...

but not the locksmith. he could not pick the lock! he worked on that lock for 15 minutes! i didn't think it would be that hard. on tv it only takes them seconds to get through locked doors, and they don't have a box full of tools and a license that allows them to legally break in! they just stick a hairpin in the lock, jiggle it around for 10 seconds, and it unlocks. clearly our locksmith had never been to prison...

the carpet guy stopped checking his watch and sighing long enough to suggest that maybe we should try a different lock. well, we could try the garage door, but then we would have to also break into the door leading from the garage to the house, because i was sure rollie had locked that door as well! so instead, we went to the french doors in the back. "no," the locksmith said, "i'd have to drill that lock. let's go try the front door again." the carpet guy had had enough. he said he had other appointments, and i would have to reschedule. then he left. i was glad. my poor house had enough karma issues without adding a cranky carpet guy to the mix...

two minutes after the carpet guy left, the locksmith popped the lock. of course...

and so, we were finally in. i got the locksmith busy on re-keying my new doorknobs so that ONE key would open them all. and then the shutter guy arrived. i sent him off to measure windows while i talked to the painter and waited for the salvation army to arrive...

i waited all day for the salvation army. they never came. i don't know what happened. maybe they had the wrong address. i rescheduled the carpet measuring for tomorrow. the shutter guy gave me his estimate. i thought about calling an ambulance to resuscitate me, but instead i managed to say, "i'll have to think about that and get back to you..." like maybe when i win the lottery...

but the painter is my hero. he worked all day covering the floors and walls to prep for painting. he is going to remove the popcorn ceilings, paint everything inside (including all the baseboards, crown moldings, doors, and closet interiors,) and also the outside. and he isn't just going to paint--he is going to repair and sand and make the inside of my 45 year old house look like new construction. yes, he is a miracle worker!

and i haven't seen him roll his eyes once!

1 comment:

mom said...

The painter sounds like your Dad, just go with the flow and everything works out, at least, most of the time. (and I say double the time he tells me). Workers are interesting, they think their part of the job is most important. Get lots of keys made and put them everywhere!!