Diary of a Small Contractor: Working for Friends
Saturday, November 8, 1986
Daylight: 10 hours, 22 minutes
Peter and Judy are expanding their house — doubling the square feet. I'm their neighbor, their friend — and also their electrician. This is a big job coming at the right time of year for me. I always try to stay busy as the nights grow long.
Peter promised to help me pull wire from the garage to the addition, a distance of 50 feet. But Peter's not here. You need one person at each end of the conduit — one feeding, one pulling. For various stupid reasons (bends in the conduit, lack of elbow room, lack of proper equipment on my part) this will be a difficult task. Here are the steps:
Saturday, November 8, 1986
Daylight: 10 hours, 22 minutes
Peter and Judy are expanding their house — doubling the square feet. I'm their neighbor, their friend — and also their electrician. This is a big job coming at the right time of year for me. I always try to stay busy as the nights grow long.
Peter promised to help me pull wire from the garage to the addition, a distance of 50 feet. But Peter's not here. You need one person at each end of the conduit — one feeding, one pulling. For various stupid reasons (bends in the conduit, lack of elbow room, lack of proper equipment on my part) this will be a difficult task. Here are the steps:
Lubricate the first couple feet of wire, straighten twists or kinks.
Climb under house.
Creep and crawl among piers and heat ducts.
Pull on fish tape for about two feet.
Creep and crawl and climb back out.
Lubricate and straighten the next couple feet of wire.
Climb under house.
Creep and crawl...
After an hour I've ripped my shirt on a nail and saturated my clothes with dust. I've never been so delighted to see the end of a fish tape. With 2 people, it would have taken 10 minutes.
Just as I finish, Peter shows up.
"Where were you?" I demand.
"Had to go to the office," Peter says. "Sorry. I'll pay you for the time."
Of course he will. But can he pay for the disrespect?
Monday, November 10, 1986
Daylight: 10 hours, 18 minutes
All day I run cable and install junction boxes.
Peter's wife Judy is somewhere inside the house while her children are at school. I rarely see her, but I hear the radio playing mainstream pop from various wall speakers scattered throughout the house. Simultaneously with the radio, 3 televisions in 3 separate rooms are tuned to a succession of soap operas and talk shows. Judy never sits in front of any of them. She has no garden; she takes no walks. She hates dogs, mushrooms, and owls. Though she lives on this mountain, Judy is not a mountain girl.
The sun goes down. Back at home Rose, my wife, is baking homemade pizza. She asks, "So now that you've worked at their house, tell me, what does Judy do all day?"
"It involves soft rock and talk TV."
"But what does she do?"
"I have no idea."
(Continued here...)
Just as I finish, Peter shows up.
"Where were you?" I demand.
"Had to go to the office," Peter says. "Sorry. I'll pay you for the time."
Of course he will. But can he pay for the disrespect?
Monday, November 10, 1986
Daylight: 10 hours, 18 minutes
All day I run cable and install junction boxes.
Peter's wife Judy is somewhere inside the house while her children are at school. I rarely see her, but I hear the radio playing mainstream pop from various wall speakers scattered throughout the house. Simultaneously with the radio, 3 televisions in 3 separate rooms are tuned to a succession of soap operas and talk shows. Judy never sits in front of any of them. She has no garden; she takes no walks. She hates dogs, mushrooms, and owls. Though she lives on this mountain, Judy is not a mountain girl.
The sun goes down. Back at home Rose, my wife, is baking homemade pizza. She asks, "So now that you've worked at their house, tell me, what does Judy do all day?"
"It involves soft rock and talk TV."
"But what does she do?"
"I have no idea."
(Continued here...)
Do you ever see snakes when you are crawling around under houses? I put off calling a plumber until I absolutely had to and then I warned him that there might be snakes down there as I see rattlers around the buildings frequently in the summer. He said he has never seen a snake under a house, but people ask about it all the time. Maybe he's right. Maybe there is nothing down there for them to eat. Another form of under-the-bed fear?
ReplyDeleteI've seen dead rats (usually skeletons) and living black widow spiders. The only snake I've encountered was under a house in Palo Alto. The snake was about 4 feet long and definitely not a rattler - but I made a rapid exit. When I described it to the homeowner, she was overjoyed: "You found Julius!" It was a pet boa constrictor that had escaped. Its name was Julius Squeezor.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the professional clarification on snakes under houses. I think there is something about this under-the-house fear thing. I will put it on my list of things to write about one day if I ever figure it out. It was really hot here today so I took the day off from mowing fire clearance around the buildings and read a bunch of your ladder stories. They were good. I was gripped by the one about the nail gun through the hand but one of the falling ones was just too much for me and I couldn't finish it. Ladders are such interesting tools and I like the way you treat them.
ReplyDelete