Yesterday, I headed over the the house for another plumbing estimate. This time from old dumb friend Joe Merritt (he did mediocre work on the last house). I walked him around and let him know what needed to be done and he'll get back to me with a quote. Killer.
When I was there, I was surprised to see some people working in there, which is always nice, painting some ceilings and walls. Jeff Doors was also in there, not doing much. It was a victory to even have him at the property, so I didn't complain too much about his lack of activity.
A few hours later, I got a call from Jeff, he let me know that I purchased the wrong lumber for the door repairs on the third floor. I responded by telling him that I bought exactly what he told me to buy, as I wrote it down while he was telling me. This flustered him. He then told me that he would be using the decorative trim that I purchased for the entry door (which is in good shape), so I corrected him and told him that it is for the newly constructed closet. This flustered him further. He went on and on about how he needs to be more organized and write stuff down and blah blah blah. he let out a big pathetic sounding sigh and got off of the phone.
Seven minutes passed.
Jeff called me again to let me know that he would be going home for the day. He said he was tired and couldn't do good work while tired. I think that he lost his self confidence after hearing about how he messed up, so he got depressed. Either way, I let him leave without putting up a stink. I have yet to hear from him again. Jeff is the best.
After a crushing Celtics defeat last night and a hit or miss night of sleep, I came to work this morning knowing that the electrician would be starting today. He let me know that he pulled the needed permit and one of his workers was at the house already. This was good news.
A few hours later, he called me up again. This time, he said he needed me to get in touch with National Grid in order for them to release a Work Request Number. This is a necessary step in the long process (Step 2) of getting the electricity turned back on. I asked him if he had the number. He then gave me the number, I jotted it down and we hung up our phones.
I called the number. It rang a few times. This is the recorded message I was greeted with:
"...call 1-800-GAY-1111, that's 1-800-G-A-Y-1-1-1-1 only 69 cents per minute..."
I am not joking.
Really, I am not. Try it for yourself (800.375.4291)
*Aside* - Some person got a job as the voice of this thing. That is so great. He had to sit in a recording booth and enunciate information about a gay chat line. This tickles me. *Aside over*
After I collected myself from the hilarious shock, I wrote down exactly what I had heard (so I could write it in this blog). It was awesome.
After that completely hilarious turn of event, I looked up the customer service number for National Grid. I then spent the next thirty minutes on and off the phone trying to get in touch with the correct department. I told the story of the electrical problems at least seven times to seven people before I finally got in touch with the right people. It was not a frustrating experience at all.
Once I reached the correct department and told my story once again, they kindly let me know that my call was useless, as they need to hear from the City Line Inspector to give me that Work Request Number. Awesome.
I called the city and they let me know the actual process by which my electricity will be turned on. Or at least, they let me know what they think the process might be, unless their whims change. Here is the new process:
1. Hire an electrician (done)
2. Electrician pulls permit (done)
3. Electrician brings electrical up to code (being done as I type)
4. Have City Line Inspector make sure everything is OK
5. National Grid contacts my electrician with the Work Request Number
6. I have no idea
7. Who knows
8. My electricity is turned on by someone or some company
As you can see, that process is quite different from the process that was told to me by National Grid a few weeks ago. Awesome. I hope to get some explanation from my electrician when I visit the house after work today. I'm sure it will confuse me further.
Oh, and the Ramada Inn is still awesome. We definitely still live there. it is definitely heartbreaking to have to walk up to the desk in the lobby and shamefully extend your stay. trust me. On the bright side, the pool there is sweet and we bought goggles and dive sticks. We are eleven years old.
More to come on Monday.