Out Sourcing

Eric recently hired some guys to come and mud/sand the walls of the garage so that he can finish that segment of the house. Two workers came. One spoke English and the other one did not. They were supposed to show on Tuesday for a estimate and never did but on Saturday morning at 8am they called to tell us they were on the their way. Okey dokey.

Once they showed up it was determined that they were willing to do the job for a very good price so Eric accepted their offer and went on his way. Next thing ya know -- the guys are asking Eric where all the supplies are. Hmmmm.....you come to our house to do a mudding/sanding job and you bring no mud? No supplies at all? Wow --Ok. Eric's friend John said this is a bit like showing up for surgery but the doctor is expecting you to provide the anesthesia and the scalpel. Very true!

Next Eric told the guys that they were welcome to anything to drink in the garage fridge (water, soda, Gatorade, etc.) The English speaking guy asked if there was beer in the garage fridge. Eric said yes but thought that was slighly lacking in professionalism. As the day went on the English speaking guy just sat on the stool and drank beer while the Spanish speaking guy worked his ass off. Eric said he looked over at one point and the English speaking guy had downed 5 beers -- he started at 9am.

Not long after they arrived the beer drinking English speaking observer asked to used the restroom. Instead of sending him down to the basement to use our utility bathroom -- Eric allowed him to use the guest bathroom on the mail level. Eric's reason for this was so that he could keep an eye on the guy since he was a stranger -- which is a good point. I, on the other hand, would not have allowed such a man to place his ass on my clean bathroom seat. I even make my brother go to the basement. Mean? Maybe -- but here's what happened next. The guy took a huge ever-lasting turd in my clean bathroom. It was so bad that Eric said it wafted throughout the house and he had to go at it with his face tucked in his shirt and a bottle of fabreeze. It was even worse than that because 2 hours later when I got home the bathroom STILL stunk like the foreign shit of a beer drinking English speaking observer (body type = fat).

The bottom line? You get what you pay for.