Hiz Mother Hiz Self

You know my history with contractors. You know there is never an uneventful job. You know I have a sign on my house that says, “Bring me your misfits, your crazies, your absolute loons to perform home improvements here.” The Powerwasher Guy did not disappoint. I was somewhat prepared for him as the painters who referred him said, “He does a fantastic job but he’s a little odd.” When his mother drove him here for the estimate, and the guy is pushing 50, I was a bit concerned. But he gave me a good price and said as soon as it warmed up, he would call and tell me when he was coming. Fine.

A month later, he called on the evening after I found out my very favorite Uncle had died suddenly and I had the trip to Florida right after the funeral, and Powerwasher Guy said he needed to come right away. I told him I didn’t think I could have him do that because I hadn’t even chosen the color deck stain for the painters who had to follow him, and with that, he started to yell at me. “You had all this time and you didn’t pick a color yet???” Hey, I know there can’t be a bigger procrastinator in the country than me, but did I need this jerk yelling at me for my shortcomings? Ever the diplomat, I screamed back at him that I would do it when I was good and ready, and I was the paying customer, blah, blah, blah. He had probably tuned me out by this point and was skinning the rabbit he grabbed on the way home.

So, yesterday was the day for PWG (Powerwasher Guy). He said he was arriving at 9AM so I figured he’d be done in two hours or so. He left at 2:30 PM. I should say, “they” left, because he didn’t throw Momma from the train. She drove him here in the truck and SAT in the truck for the entire time! I’ll let that sink in, gentle readers. Me, I’m behind locked doors saying, “What the HELL is he washing out there?”

A word about the truck. It had the name of his business with a drawing of a guy holding the power washing hose with water squirting out, but it was positioned to look as though he were urinating on someone’s house. Nice touch.

So about noon, I go out to see what’s going on, and I realize he is not only powerwashing the deck, but my entire house. OK, fine, it was dirty, but I had to get to work that night. So I decide to pay him and then go inside to get ready and not have to deal with him or Momma. I start to write out the check and he says, “Oh no…I explained to you that I need cash, no checks.” I must have been staring at him in disbelief, what with his spiffy business van, etc. I just assumed he would take a check. He said, “Look, Uncle Sam may be your uncle, but he’s not mine”, no wait, “he ain’t mine” So I dashed off to the bank to get him his loot and paid him when I got back.

I must admit, he did a bang-up job, but he was a bit too Deliverance for my taste. Next appointment, the painters back again for the deck on Saturday. When they were here last, one of them got clipped by my ceiling fan crashing to the floor when they turned it on.
Maybe this time, they’ll just get buzzed by one of the ducks who dive bomb the pool cover at the first sign of spring. And I don’t think they’ll be bringing their moms.