Where post 1: The Great Wall explained the overall start of this project, this is going to be a rant. I promise in the future posts about the wall to do my best to just “go with it” and find the humor in it all.
He texted around 10AM with another excuse for this tardiness. This time it was a broken cement mixer that was delaying his start. Up until this point I have kept my cool wanting to avoid being labeled an “irrational b*tch.” I texted back with a little sass, “well you knew you were going to need one so I hope you figure out the best solution so that you can be here by noon =).” David would go on to tell me that the smiley face was a bit unnecessary. But, I just truly feel taken advantage of here by this guy and this was my first foray into sass with him.
At 1:00PM, he finally arrives and I decide to head back to him to say good afternoon. That is when I get hit with a level of condescension that surprised me. He starts by completely gendering me, “Well, I know that you are worried and it is quite clear that you suffer from anxiety but listen I am here and I am going to work. I would appreciate it if you didn’t nag me on the phone.” WHOA! First of all, my friend, you have taken a good chunk of our life-savings for this retaining wall and provided nothing in return and the rest of it is due to you upon completion. My “anxiety” that you speak of is it not that at all, but rather my mere desire to see follow through on a job I am paying you for. Then, he gives me the sob story. He tells me about his new divorce/separation, his broken arm (still no sign of a cast), his sitting in traffic to and from our house, his broken truck, his need to pay for camp for his son, the heat, the hard labor, his long doctor’s appointment, etc. etc. etc. While this may be true and then very sad, I cannot help but think there is a story for every day’s delay. I want to tell him I would never imagine going to work and telling my department head I was unable to come to class on time day after day and week after week because of my personal woes. You just don’t do that. Instead, I say “listen, I don’t ever want to have to raise my voice or be mean about this job, I just want to see you committed to the project as you claimed you would be on the contract and in your numerous promises.” He looks at me and says, “Yea, you wouldn’t want to get mean with me, kiddo. Trust me on that one.” At this point I am furious. Is it because I am a woman and young that you don’t respect my concerns about the direction (or lack thereof) of this project and that you seem okay with trying to intimidate me? I refuse to be turned into a nasty person over this. Instead, I smiled and said, “Well it won’t come to that because of course you will be here now every day as per the contract in order to ensure your future payments.”
Then I calmly walked into the house and stepped right into a puddle of dog pee. HaHaHaHaHa yup!