Death by Remodeling

This, roughly, was Rocky’s work schedule: work for fifteen minutes, go to Home Depot for some supplies, come back two hours later, work for another twenty minutes, smoke break, work for another fifteen, and then lunch. In total, Rocky clocked about one hour per day. And his wife, who we’ll call Stella (because I can’t remember her real name and I imagine her as a “Stella”), came along every day as Rocky’s chauffeur—not in order to work herself. Rocky had lost his license, so Stella drove him everywhere. She preferred chatting with Melissa (who works from home) instead of assisting Rocky. You can imagine Melissa’s frustration. 

On the second day, Rocky trudged down the stairs (in his muddy work boots) to Melissa’s office, to ask if he could borrow a ladder. The request was a little strange, but Melissa told him it was no problem. Then, a few days later, Rocky asked to borrow a drill. Confused on how any carpenter could plan to build an addition without owning a drill, Melissa called him out. Apparently Rocky’s drill was on “special order” and hadn’t been delivered yet. Hmmmmm…

You can guess what happened next: days stretched into weeks, which stretched into months. On several days, Rocky and Stella never bothered showing up at all. Angry phone calls to the contractor proved fruitless.

In an attempt to cut down on the two-hour lunch break ritual, Melissa told Rocky and Stella they could leave their lunches in the refrigerator in her basement. The fridge, which was stocked with microbrews, began to have more room on the shelves. Melissa found the evidence later—shoved in her rafters. The couple was shotgunning beers and shoving the bottles in the rafters on their lunch break.

Nervous, but needing to run an errand (remember, she had been home for months with these crazies), Melissa left the house. She gave Stella her cell number and said she would be gone an hour. Minutes later, Melissa received a call from Stella saying that Rocky had been hurt on the job. Stella was calling to find out where the nearest urgent care was located. When Melissa returned, Rocky’s hand was covered in thick bandages. From the way Stella had talked, and the wad of bandages, Melissa expected that Rocky had managed to cut off his finger. Rocky ceremoniously peeled off the bandages and showed her the cut, which probably really hurt, but didn’t need seventy feet of gauze. He had cut the tip of his finger with his knife when he was scoring the drywall.

Rocky said his finger was throbbing, and Stella retorted that the pain meds should work soon. Stella confessed that Rocky had taken some pain meds that morning and that she’d given him another two after the “accident.” High on prescription drugs, and recounting the story of his dependence on pain medication, Rocky fired up the next power tool. Melissa suggested they call it a day.

This story goes on and on. In the end, the room was only taped and mudded at the five-month mark. Melissa’s husband called it quits, filed a complaint with the Better Business Bureau, and finished the work himself. The Rocky’s craftsmanship (as expected), was seen to be shoddy at best. Their home was permanently damaged.

And remember the painting? It was finished out of sequence. Melissa still has the splatters on her kitchen cabinets as a souvenir of her remodeling adventure.