CAREGIVER DIARIES: REPUTABLE

The young plumber could have had the job, but he made too many excuses, was inconsistent, a little messy, unprepared, ill-equipped, and unsure. 

One thing he was sure about was the hundreds of dollars in his ever changing, escalating quote. 

I guess the only good thing that came out of his visit, was my Dad giving him a lecture on the history of "sagging" (Yes, I was a little embarrassed for him.), and a very long talk about salvation. 

(He's probably still reeling from it, but he respectfully listened.)

The next, older plumber showed up, after phoning the house at 7:00 A.M., made matters worse, (at least the water had been going out slowly) and said he'd be back last Tuesday. (Has anyone seen him? I sure hope he's okay-- as we embark upon yet another Tuesday.)

Both of them, nice though they seemed to be, made it necessary for me to invest in Mr. Clean, Lysol, Clorox, and Bounty paper towels. 

Both of them left my Dad lamenting trying to patronize independent contractors, and acquaintances who say they have certain skills. 

Okay. The exact terminology was "jackleg", but I digress. 

My Dad's a no-nonsense senior citizen. 

He's very big on keeping one's word, doing one's job well, respecting time, and businesses that offer discounts for seniors and veterans. 

If you say you're going to do something…well…he kind of expects you to follow through.

 

I was actually surprised by the patience he demonstrated---for almost a month. I was, on the other hand, preparing to spend an hour or so at the laundromat-slash-wash and fold-slash-Chinese restaurant down the street.

 

"Who can we call?" he asked. 

Then I remembered the jingle--"If you can't we can, Michael and Son!" 

I thought about bailing water again, and felt like I was in a flashback to 1970's Addis, Louisiana, using my grandmother's wringer washing machine.

 

"I can't." I replied to the jingle. "Call Michael and Son".

Michael and Son's Dave M. (who was phoned today, mind you) showed up, today, promptly, and in uniform. 

He placed a mat at the front door, and covers over his shoes (Now, you know that impressed the neat freak in me), assessed the problem, and went right to work with ALL of the proper tools he needed at his disposal, that he’d retrieved from a truck that had the company name emblazoned all over it. 

Dave never hemmed, hawed, haggled, minced words, hesitated, nor seemed bewildered. He never uttered the words:

"I have to come back tomorrow."

"I'm going to need some help"

"I don't have the special, mystical, magical doohickie I need."

"I may need a jackhammer to break up the floor."

"You need all new pipes."

"I have to see if I can rent some equipment."

"This may require divine intervention."

"You may want to go to a hotel."

"This may take a few days." or 

"Prepare to empty out your bank account and eat crackers for the next 3 months."

Dave just did the job efficiently, and effectively--with a smile—and didn’t leave a mess.

Praise Jesus.

 

I will never again experience the shock of stepping on wet carpet as I navigate to the bathroom in the dark. 

No more bailing water after every wash load (although it was a nice workout, as I am still in my deeply delusional pursuit of Michelle Obama-like arms).

The years-old clog is gone. Water is flowing freely once again, and before Super Dave, my hero, even pulled out of the driveway, an invoice and a diagnostic sheet in PDF form was in my email inbox, ready for me to download. 

It was nowhere near either of the other guys' outrageous quotes (for the major excavation they’d both insisted was needed).

In light of the savings, maybe it's time to call Stanley Steemer, too.

The word of the day is "reputable".