Okay, I have been dealing with contractors galore. Some are good. Some are bad. Some are stupider than my daughter's moron cat. (The cat just meowed at me piteously.) Also I was forced to give the cat a special hair cut to help cut down on what I call poopy dreadlocks. Pet stylists probably have a highly professional and technical term for it, which I don't know. Didn't I just finish telling you I was going to switch subjects in an annoying fashion? (I just Googled it and found that people get their long-haired cats something called a lion cut. Then I looked at pictures of a lion cut and I had to pause for a bit to wipe the tears from my eyes.) (Poor damn cat.)
I'm pretty sure the cat would die of shame if we did this to him. But hey he wouldn't get dingleberries. (And well, he isn't happy with me anyway since I had to give him the "special" booty trim, if you know what I mean. For those of you without cats, talk to those with cats. They'll explain it to you.)
Back to the contractors. We have a warranty on the house. The air conditioner in the attic has a problem. I called for assistance. They sent someone over to look at the problem. (I told them what the problem was because anyone with half a brain can see that the PVC pipe that drains the a/c unit is either clogged or tilted down in the wrong direction but I could sense that they weren't inclined to listen to my opinion over the phone.) The guy went up there and said, "The PVC pipe is clogged or tilted wrong in the horizontal direction." I said, "Duh, Herman," on the inside.
Then the contractor said, "I'll have to go back to the office and they'll see if this is covered by the warranty." What I wanted to say was, "I already know it's covered in the warranty because I just read the warranty before I called this in and it SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS DRAINAGE OF THE A/C UNITS IN THE FRICKING WARRANTY!" (Sam Kinison style, in fact.) In fact I circled the segment with a pen because I know exactly what the frick the problem is. But I didn't say that. The guy looked at my face and repeated what he said about making sure that the warranty covers the problem. Then he said something lame about Betty Grace or Elizabeth Sue from the office calling us back when they figured it all out and could we please fork over the fee for him so graciously showing up at our house to ascertain what I already knew was broken. It's a $100 service call fee. (They gave us a break and only charged us $60. Oh, I should be so grateful, but I'm not for some reason.)
So once the contractors graciously conclude that I might be right they be back over to charge us $100 and can we please be polite about their hosing of us? (They have a preference for flowers, but definitely no carnations, and Astroglide.) All of this happened because we have a house warranty that came with the house. I HATE CONTRACTORS! I HATE WARRANTY SERVICES! I'm not happy with HIM right now because he had to move here and I have to get all neurological (Pathological? Psychotic?) about a new house. I'm pretty sure there's a new category in the Diagnostical Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders that features ME! FWD: Fat Woman Disorder. Kind of like PMS, except with bazookas and snarky blogs.
Of course Mary Jo Ann Doris from the office didn't call us back on Friday to say anything about the stupid drainage issue or the warranty or the fact that I resemble a Gorgon when I'm really pissed off. And I would know if they called because we have CALLER ID. (This is a reference to another contractor who swore he called us but I happen to know he did not, even after he did call the right number for something else, so he lied his a** off about the first call because he didn't want to sound like a moron, but he failed miserably. Oh carp, meandering again. Very sad.)