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One of the things my wife and I did not like about our house when we bought it was the carpet. Sharron said it looked like a paper bag, as if someone had decided to cover the concrete with sacks leftover from a trip to the grocery store. I speculated that after they had carefully taped the paper sacks to the foundation, they let animals run over it, perhaps in a reenactment of a wildlife stampede on the African savannah. I was certain that in our hallway there was the footprint of a rhinoceros.
The first time we ordered new carpet, we discovered it was so expensive that, if we bought it, we would not have enough money left over to eat. We would have starved to death. Eventually, the police would find us dead in our living room. "They don't look so good," one of them one would say. "Yeah," his partner would answer, "but just look at that carpet!" The second time we ordered carpet, the carpet company sent Dumbo the elephant to measure the house for us. That may sound harsh at first, but it is so unerringly accurate that I have difficulty feeling any remorse. The first thing he said upon entering our house was "Why am I here?" Those were his exact words. Sharron gave him a befuddled look. She didn't say anything, in hopes that he would elaborate. I had heard him from the other room and I walked in to stare at him. What do you mean, "Why are you here?" I wanted to ask. Do you mean that in a cosmic sense? He stood there and looked around. A thought popped into his mind. "The people at the office didn't tell me what I was doing here," he said. "You're measuring the carpet," Sharron explained. "Where?" A thousand smart aleck answers raced through my mind, down into my throat, and banged themselves silly against the inside of my mouth as they tried to get out: We want you to measure the people's house next door. We're buying them carpet as a surprise! The back yard. We're tired of mowing and thought carpet would be a good look. In the two bathtubs and under the fish tank. Nowhere else, though. That would be silly. Sharron spoke up. "See this paper sack on the floor." "Uh," said the carpet guy. "We'd like that replaced with a carpet." That was simple enough for him and he began measuring. He was fine for a little while, but there was still an air of non-professionalism about him. Perhaps he was an imposter, I thought -- some guy who pretends to measure houses for fun, or who was casing our home for a robbery. Suspicious, I followed him up the stairs. Our loft was a problem for him. To get to it you have to climb up the rungs of a wooden ladder. He asked if I could go up and measure for him. "Sure," I said. From the loft I gave the measurements in inches. "Can you give those to me and feet and inches?" he asked. The smart aleck answers busily got themselves into another traffic jam: Would you like me to write them down for you and call them in to your company? Then I can drive you around in your truck and do the rest of your job for you too! I smiled and gave him the measurements he wanted. On his way out, Dumbo the non-flying elephant told us all the things we'd have to do in preparation for the carpet replacement. He was surprised that we considered them to be inconvenient. We knew it would be a lot of work, but by the time he was through I had the feeling that it might just be easier to move to another house that had nicer carpet. Two seconds after he walked out the door, Sharron let fly, and that's how another carpet company lost our business. It would be months before we had the courage to try again... It was months later when we had the emotional strength to go through the process of picking out carpet at a new store and having the house measured again. When we did, we were pleasantly surprised. The guy who measured this time showed up at the door and said, "Hi, my name is George, and I'm here to measure your carpet today. Where exactly would you like me to measure? Are you replacing the existing carpet? Here is a list of things that will be need to be done before the carpet can be installed. I realize it's a lot of work, but we think you will be happy with the results. You can review that while I begin taking my measurements. Do you mind if I go upstairs? I see on my notes here that you have a loft and would like that measured separately. I'll go up there and check it out. Thank you. Have a nice day." "Now that's what I'm talking about," I said to my wife. She nodded and we shared a secret smile. Everything would have been perfect except for one thing the carpet guy said in passing, "If you are planning on doing any painting," he mentioned, "you'll want to give yourselves time to do it before the installation date." Painting! That part had not even occurred to me. Sharron had thought of it but had avoided mentioning it for fear of sending me over the edge. Luckily, the house was in pretty good shape, except for the wooden railing that runs along the stairway and the edge of the loft. There were splatters of white paint all over the wood. There were also great big white blotches on the railing where it met the walls, a healthy warning to anyone out there that you should not drink and paint. While cleaning the paint off the rails in the loft, Sharron noticed that there was a little more than just white paint on some of the wood. "This is bird poo!" she exclaimed. And right she was. The family who owned the house before us must have had a pet bird as well. My earlier image of an African stampede suddenly became more detailed. Now it included chimpanzees wielding paintbrushes and flocks of birds circling under the high ceiling. Dumbo would have felt right at home. Once cleaned, the railing was ready to be re-stained. Upon opening the can of wood stain, I noticed the word "Pleistocene" but didn't think anything of it. I figured it was one of the ingredients in lacquer. A couple days later, when the wood stain still wasn't dry, I read it again. The can said, "If you do not know what you are doing and you apply this stain in thick coats to wood that has previously been stained, the length of time it will take for this stain to dry is equivalent to the length of the geologic era known as the 'Pleistocene.' " Wow. That was long time, and that was a problem. The carpet people were due to install the carpet in a day and the stain would not be dry by then. There was no way they could carpet when the ladder to the loft, as well as all the railings in the house, were covered with wet wood stain which had already ruined two pairs of clothes. (I knew I should have changed out of my tuxedo before working on the house.) We had to reschedule the installation. Fortunately, when the day for it finally arrived, it went off without a hitch. This was nice because it allowed me to resume my new exercise program called "moving things in and out of the garage and up and down the stairs." It's a great program. There are no monthly dues and no annoying personal trainers who talk down to you even though you could kick their butt in a spelling bee. So, now that our house is fit for company, maybe, someday, I will be too... |
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