Last night, a call came in from a contractor named Adam who is doing some work on a home in my park in central New York while I was talking with my wife. I ignored it. After I finished speaking with the Boss, I noticed that he had not left a voice message, and so I called him back. He did not pick up when I returned his call, so I texted him:
I see you called. What’s up?
So my friend Lowe’s really tucked me up they finally showed up hr ago, which put me behind greatly, we are working all day today and tomorrow to finish ,I’m installing floor and brads finishing paint, we will be complete by Wednesday night ,with Lowe’s not showing up Fri like they were supposed to I didn’t schedule any other work and know I’m fucked again, for money. I’ll send you picks tonight to show our progress, we really need 400 or 500 tonight to keep going. Brad has court Tues night to get his license back and we were planning on being finished ,I feel bad for keep asking but at least I’m bringing that nasty SOE back to life lol ,really am in a ding , I’ll be at park for next four five hrs, hopefully you can understand my deliema ,back to work ,once Brad gets our of DR visit thanks for time and work hopefully I’m not pissing u off too bad ,
I know Adam from way back. He rehabbed a home across from the home he is working on now in the fall of 2016. I remember the date because he was working on the home on November 8, 2016. Before the election, he told me about how crooked Hillary was, and how Trump would save the country. When I called him on November 9, we discussed the progress of the home and the possibility that he could do some work on a home on the other end of the park. When we were about to hang up, I said, “And – Adam?”
-Yeah?
-Thanks for not mentioning the election.
-Heh, heh.
A few days later, he said that Obama was going to use a super-secret procedure to nullify the election results. I believe that he meant that Obama was going to ask Congress to not certify the results of the electoral college vote, or that electors would not vote according to their districts’ popular votes. I told him not to worry because this was America after all, not Afghanistan or France, that we have a political culture that works and that people who guard the institutions of power generally obey the rule of law. It turned out that I was right – about the Obama administration.
Adam is three years younger than me. He has bleached his hair yellow and his face is as lined as that of someone twenty years older. One time in 2016, he asked me if I had kids, and I gave the standard response: “Two that I know about”. He said,
-I had my first when I was fifteen.
-What the fuck?
-I went to a bar and fell asleep between two girls. When I woke up, some woman who was one’s mom was standing over us, shouting.
-Jesus!
-I’d been living on my own since I was twelve. My father went to Arizona, and I got an apartment.
When I spoke with him about the current job last month, he said that some guy who lived in a building that he managed had stuck a gun in his face when he had asked him for rent. But things had worked themselves out when he offered the guy a blunt, which they smoked together.
I almost hired Adam for the maintenance guy position that J.B. eventually filled in 2016. I decided not to hire him because he seemed too random and erratic for a long-term position. That said, he did some good work on one-off jobs. He understood mobile home structural issues, and was able to rescue a home whose band had rotted out. His finish work was not always perfect, but he took care of big things well, and he worked fast. I liked that, because I hate opportunity costs.
In 2016, Adam was miffed that he was passed over. We lost touch for five years. Then, I fired J.B. and I needed someone else to rehab homes. Two months ago, a young couple moved out of a home in that park and left it a mess. All of the reputable contractors I called told me they were backed up until 2022, so I emailed Adam. He responded. The rest is blog posts.
Sorry, no. The $3,500 that I have already paid you for labor is enough to pay your expenses until you finish the job.
Adam and I originally agreed that I would pay him $3,500 for labor, and that I would buy materials. After he started in on it, he upped his price to $4,500. I agreed; it was a big job, and everyone can be wrong once. I paid him $2,500 on Day 1. He asked for another $1,000 after he had started the job. I paid that. I had to pull him off that job to hook up the gas to another home that had just been installed in that park. That job was hours and rates. I ended up paying him $360 for that one, plus four calls from Lowes to pick up parts on my credit card. He asked me to venmo him $120 before he started the gas hookup job, and needed to be paid for the balance immediately after he finished (sooner you can send the money for gas and water be awesome ,waiting on it so I can grab some breakfast this morning left house without my wallet lol). When I visited the park the week before last, he asked me if I had any cash on me, so I handed him a $100 bill. After the nth call from Lowes and the fifth request for immediate funds, things began to seem fishy. Where did that money go? Who needs money instantaneously? It looked an awful lot like he was spending it on drugs. I like Adam, but fuck if I will be an ATM for anyone other than the kids I know about.
That really ducks I’m stuck with no gas or anything, I’ve had nothing but bad luck since I started this project ,lost my fulltime job because I had to put more time in there than thought ,seriously we are stuck we really need a draw from what’s left we worked late last night and were hoping to work today and tomorrow I don’t have anyone to Barrow from
Sorry, but I think that the $3,960 that you have already gotten is enough to pay living expenses until you finish the job. When do you think you will finish up?
I had had high hopes for Adam. A few tin cans in my park in northern New York will empty out shortly. Mike is an ace, but he is only one guy and he has his hands full with several other things. I wanted to have Adam and his son Brad camp out in the office at that park and knock out a few of the rehab jobs in the next few months. But if he does not get his shit together, that is a headache without which I can live.
The old joke is that, if you play a country song backwards, your wife takes you back, your truck is fixed, and your dog comes back to life. Own a mobile home park long enough and you will hear plenty of sad stories. Some are true, and some are not. Some are funny, many not so much:
I do feel like shit for bothering you but I’m stuck, and I’m doing the best I can ,you won’t be disappointed place is really nice and clean solid and very livable , please help us ,my word as a man then you won’t hear from me again till finished, oh and someone got into my barn and took my air nailer I need to tack down base trim ,,go figure lose my job, truck ,and house and wife all in a week ,
That’s two out of three, plus a few extras. There is nothing to say to that other than, “We had an agreement. Let’s stick to it”. There is only so much shit up with which a reasonable guy can be expected to put.
All life is a learning experience. Some better not experienced.