If I don't kill Juan the carpenter by the end of tomorrow, it will be a miracle. But I am a cheap fuck and Juan is a cheaper carpenter. We're both fucking cheap. The bathroom has only a few things more to make it complete, that is if a leak doesn't appear or the phone go out because when he put in the copper plumbing he took all the grounds off and didn't attach them back. Okay now, the phone company came out today and did it, no phone for four days but hey, I'm happy to flush the toilet lobster into the sea.
The shower doors will go on tomorrow unless Juan finds out he needs glasses, pronto so he can figure out the pictures following each instruction. I think he is illiterate on top of everything else, but cheap. At least the total in my brain is coming in less than the bids I had for an actual company that has an overseer to make sure the slaves complete the tasks. Juan was one of these slaves. Paid, I don't know what to learn a trade the hard way and now is making a fair wage, $25 an hour for his skills. That's another thing entirely, but let's be honest and state Juan the carpenter should always find someone to work for rather than with.
The Peach color walls are nice and warm with all the dark cherry wood of the vanity and picture frames. It looks good but then, as the saying goes, "Mary, it takes a fairy to make something pretty."
Stories from living in Los Angeles
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