Counter Offer

The long awaited granite tops finally showed up in the back of a Benz sprinter van. Three Portuguese guys rolled out of the cab and sauntered into our kitchen. There was some heated discussion in Russian Spanish, which is what Portuguese sounds like to me, and a dismayed tall guy calling himself William pulled me aside to break the news in five agonizing words.

“It’s not going to work.” The following five words projected from my brain speaker has become quite the theme this past month. “Are you fu@king kidding me!?!”

Does the granite go OVER the stove?

William looked worried. Probably because he was. He explained that the operation was “too risky” and that proceeding with the instal could result in major damage to our cabinets or fracture the granite. He would need to take the granite back to the cutter one hour away and return on another day with two pieces. And then Dave The Floor Guy stepped in.

“That counter ain’t goin’ fu@kin nowhere but on that fu@kin’ cabinet boys.” Dave The Floor Guy is my new favorite human of all time. William hung his head, fumbled around his pocket for a cell phone, and dialed a number. There was some pacing coupled with arm circles, and the conversation wrapped up with a head bow and slow 180 spin on his heel. Dave The Floor Guy was going to get his fu*king way.

Three Stooges

What transpired next was a tense 90 minutes of wedging a giant slab of flat rock into a space designed for 1880’s technology. Diana and Kéa couldn’t take it. They wisely sought refuge upstairs in the only semi-chaotic free space. Dave The Floor Guy chipped and buzzed pieces of wall while the three stooges angled our expensive rock into place. I did what I do best, which is to stand there slack jawed and totally useless.

After a lot of shouting, the counter tops were successfully installed. And that would be amazing, except that the new sink doesn’t match the old plumbing. We had no way of knowing this. Or more accurately, we had no way of asking anyone knowledgeable to know if we had no way of knowing this. It’s not what you don’t know…it’s what you don’t know to know what you don’t know.

This really should have tipped me off about these guys.

We now have beautiful granite cabinet lids…and no running water. It’s a fairly moot point at this stage. Dave The Floor Guy is currently putting another coat of poly on the kitchen and dining room. We have given up the majority of any hope this will ever end. Diana and Kéa went to a movie and are now at the beach. I finished our deck rail with cable to make it legal, and in hopes of establishing some small sliver of sanity, I took the rare opportunity to hit the gym.

We’re all pretty well over it. We have a line on Bill The Plumber for tomorrow. If the stars align I might get one single night in the house before I head north to another enclave of crazy. As for the girls, they’ll have to remain in this sphere of insanity for another week.

Backsplashes come, you know…whenevah.

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