TWO DAYS DOES NOT MEAN THREE....

It’s been an exciting couple of weeks for Iris, and the renovations at the new Stone Manor.

Last week, we saw the beautiful new kitchen installed, and it came up an absolute treat.  Iris was beside herself with happiness.

This week, we see the final steps in renovation: the carpet and vinyl installation.

So, Big Tony (the carpet laying boss) says to me: Monday and Tuesday, Lee.  It will be done for you.

Sweet!

So we’ve organised the movers to bring Iris’ stuff, and her friends to bring the stupid cat, and she can finally, after many months, settle into her beautiful, new home.

BA-BOW.  Problem.

So, I call into Stone Manor on the way home from work on Tuesday night, expecting to see everything finished.  It’s been two days, after all.

I park out the front, and walk up the little path, and notice a pile of rubbish (clearly from the floorers) on the front lawn.  This really impresses me.

Up the front steps, and there are tools, buckets and friggin’ vinyl planks on the verandah.  WTF is that shit doing there?

The house is locked (thank God), so I open it up, and can hear some music coming from inside.  There’s no vehicle parked out the front, so I’m like WTF? 

‘Hello?’ I call out; no answer.  Of course not; no one is there.

I step into the unit, and stop dead in my tracks.  Not a single plank or stitch of carpet has been laid.  Nothing.  The prep work has been done, but nothing else.

WTF have these guys been doing for the last two days?

I follow the music into the master bedroom, where the tradies have plugged in a little radio for themselves to listen to.  Would have helped if they turned the fucken thing off before they left.  As well as a couple of the lights.

Maybe he’s working late, and has gone for some dinner?  I hang around for 10 minutes; nothing.

WTF is going on.

So, I call Iris, and just as she answers, my phone dies.  Great.  Not only can I not discuss it with her; I can’t call the carpet layers until I get home, which of course will be too late.  They’ll be closed.

So the next morning, on the way to work, I call into the unit, and carpet boy is in there, working away.  I’m like ‘WTF dude? You’re supposed to have been finished yesterday?’

‘Naaa… Big Tony said three days: Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.’ 

‘Well if that’s the case, I would have expected to see a lot more done than this.  Big Tony told me you’d be done by Tuesday night, and I’ve organised the movers for tomorrow.  This shit MUST be finished tonight.’

Carpet boy shit himself.  And rightly so.  WTF have you been doing for two days, my friend?

So I call Big Judy (Big Tony’s Mrs) and explain that I’m far from impressed.  She was as shocked as I was, because she thought he had finished.  She makes a few phone calls, and rings back.  ‘It will definitely be finished today.’  It better be. ‘I’ll call you when he’s finished.’

So Big Judy calls me at about 4.30pm to advise that it is nearly finished, however, brace yourself: they’ve run out of carpet.  You’ve got to be fucken kidding me.  How the hell do you run out of carpet?

So I call in on Wednesday night, and carpet boy is STILL there, but is nearly finished.  Place is looking quite spanky, even with the carpet not 100% finished.  That’s when I notice it.  Oh no…

‘Carpet boy?’ I ask quietly.  ‘Was there not a heating duct in the kitchen under the window?’  Carpet boy goes whiter shade of pale.  He’s installed the vinyl planks over the top of the heating duct.  Clown.

‘I’ll fix it for you.’  He sighs.  ‘Yes you will, my friend.’

So I call past Thursday morning on the way to work, and by now, I’m seriously over it and ready to kill.  Apart from needing a good vacuum (fluffy carpet bits everywhere), and the lounge not 100% finished, the place has come up a treat.

Except that he hasn’t fixed the kitchen duct.

So I call Big Judy when I get to work, and I’m like ‘What is going on?  Where’s the rest of the carpet and what the hell with the heating duct?’

Apparently, carpet boy will be coming back on Friday afternoon to finish off the carpet and fix the friggin’ duct.  Great.  That’s the same day the movers are coming (because they were delayed a day). 

So we’re going to have removalists and carpet boy climbing over the top of each other to get their shit done, and poor Iris in the middle, no doubt having a stress attack over the whole thing.  Wonderful.

Everything has been running so smoothly, until now.  Why, at the finish line, does everyone have to crash and burn?

I can’t friggin’ wait for the weekend, when all this shit will be over.

Grumpy peace out.