My contractor George was a very likeable man in the beginning when he put custom red tile in my kitchen in my beachside condo. “I’m a simple man,” he used to say. “All I need is some rice and beans on my plate.”
He became less simple as homeowners got wind of his immense talents and he started charging up to $500 day for labor. He also become so overworked—and now I speculate based on strong evidence that would come out later—that he became addicted to drugs.
Once a reliable worker, he started showing up randomly, late, or not at all, to the point that I was almost begging him to get his current job done, my new kitchen in my new home. With the kitchen half finished and with a $1,800 deposit I gave him for a large kitchen window that didn’t materialize after three months, I called the window company, asked about my order, and discovered that George had never ordered a window.
To add to my worries, another contractor who fabricated my granite counter tops, told me George was being flaky with other clients. I called my friends who used George and told them these revelations.
It was my fortune that George had left over $3,000 worth of tools in my garage and it was also a great leverage point that I knew George didn’t pay taxes, and I told him I would hold his tools hostage and I lied to him, threatening to use my "contacts" in the IRS to ruin his life.
I said this to him one day in the half rebuilt kitchen. I was wearing a tank top, had just got back from my Brazilian jiu-jitsu lesson, and was feeling a wide iridescent silver crest grow across my back.
Instead of saying sorry for stealing my money, George said, “I don’t appreciate you calling my clients and talking crap about me.”
I said, “You don’t steal my money, then give me a lecture on moral imperatives. Are we clear?”
Later my wife said she walked outside and and started shaking, for she could see in my Hulk body language that I was about to tear George’s head off.
George looked up at me and he realized my argument was veering in a direction he didn’t want to go to. The more fearful his eyes became, the more emboldened I became and I began shouting a spit-spraying vituperation while thumping my index finger into his chest.
I wanted my $1,800 the next day before 5 P.M. or else I would ruin his life, keep his tools, call my “friends” in the IRS, etc.
He showed up the next day with the money. Our final meeting was congenial. I haven’t seen him since and my silver streak on my back is now happily gone.
I just wish he would have given you a reason to punch his lights out. My latest contractor story isn't nearly as powerful. But still....I bought a leather chair from a guy on Craigs List a couple years ago (chair that was left in a model home) and found out he's a contractor---owns a small company. Since we met, I've had him do several projects for me----fair prices and decent work. But lately, he became less and less reliable, to the point of not even showing up to give me quotes----in other words, turning away easy money, since I've never gotten a price from him and NOT given him the work. Funny thing is that by not showing up (twice) for the last project request I had----I ended up finding someone else to do the work----and the project has progressed into something that is significant----really good money. He complains about not having enough work----even took a job with a larger company for a while when he wasn't doing well enough with his own business----but by not being a go-getter, he loses out on a big check.
Posted by: Angelo | 06/29/2012 at 07:01 AM