As my Wife and I were prepping/ repairing our little house in the Great Southern Swamp we had a list of certain handyman jobs (i.e. Hanging a Door, Patch a Wall, Replace some damaged base boards etc.) very basic tasks. Awhile back when we had a similar list we had contacted a local general handyman named Handyman Herb. Herb obviously didn’t graduate at the head of his class, but he was capable of doing elementary tasks with decent prices. So when we found ourselves in need of handyman services again we called Handyman Herb. My Wife talked to him via the phone and told him what we needed done and then scheduled for him to stop by on the coming Monday at 9:00 am.
My Wife was working that Monday leaving me to handle Herb which made me a bit wary. I have no illusions about my unruly behavior at times with other people especially if they annoy or disappoint me. Little did I know that Monday would test all of my strength to keep from going absolutely bat shit crazy on the entire known fucking world.
9:00 am Monday comes and no Handyman Herb. Twenty minutes later I have to hit up the shitter and did so as fast as possible incase Herb finally decided to show the fuck up for work. As I was walking back from the crapper my cell phone went off, it was Handyman Herb.
Now I thought Herb was calling to apologize for being late and would then give me a realistic ETA, but that wasn’t the case. Handyman Herb had brought a belligerent attitude with him, and as soon as I answered he demanded to know if someone was indeed home. Well I thought to myself your talking to me and theres a car parked out front so yeah I’m fucking here. I informed Herb that I was the only one home and I had to hit up the pisser (not to mention HE was now 30 minutes late but asshole didn’t want to talk about that shit) Herb responds by grumping like a gimp that he knocked and that he was now in fact here.
I already felt my blood pressure rising as a serious pet peeve of mine is if I’m paying you DO YOUR JOB (i.e. SHOW UP ON TIME) and BE A FUCKING PROFESSIONAL. You come to work for me leave your bullshit at the door. I instinctively started to text my Wife to channel the increasing irritation and shitty speculation of the Handyman Herb situation.
I opened the door to let Herb in (apparently he had brought a sidekick assistant who resembled a English Bulldog in both looks and mentality) as Herb entered it was BLATANTLY FUCKING OBVIOUS by the SCOWL on his face and agitated body language that this shit show had just begun. I gave the repair list containing 10 issues that needed to be addressed/remedied hoping at this point that Captain Crap-a-tude would just shut the hell up and get to work. Nope that didn’t happen.
Handyman Herb and his Sidekick proceeded to slowly pace around my house aimlessly assessing the project list. Not only are Herb and Sidekick wasting more time but their actively bitching about the jobs on the list like what a pain in the ass they may or may not be. This horseshit went on for 10-12 minutes as I continued to text my Wife updating her on the on going circus of shit as it unfolded.
Then shit really started to go down hill. Every fucking job that was on the list (which my Wife discussed with him one on one via the phone) in his opinion wasn’t an problem/worth fixing. The biggest issue was his total lack of preparedness. Herb read down the list while he moseyed around my house like a vagrant informing me that he didn’t have the tools for each said job. Around number 7 on the list Herb try to switch the blame for his grossly unprofessional bullshit was actually my Wife’s fault. Blaming my Wife (not to mention like I said I was in the room when the 2 of them talked on the phone so he’s lying to my fucking face) was a massive mistake.
Even then I was still straining with every fucking fiber of my being to get something productive done and not shit all over Not So Handy Herb and his wide eyed, mute, mouth breathing sidekick. As I mentioned earlier I was feverishly texting my Wife about not only what the hell was going on but my reaction(s) to it all. Losing my composure bit by bit I had started to fight fire with fire. I tensed up my body language to match Herb’s, started to angrily glare, and started to say things with a bad attitude. Example “I don’t give a damn about why nothing can get done, I need someone to fix this shit because I’m getting the fuck out of this shithole state.” Herb remained oblivious.
She was very cool about the whole deal as usually in these situations she is the one struggling to get me to chill out. When it got to the point that I texted her “I’m SO fucking done with Herb, I’m about to kick him and his shitty attitude out of the fucking house, she wrote back “O.K. kick him out then and we’ll call someone who appreciates the work.”
I can not BEGIN to explain how INSANELY HAPPY that text made me. I immediately tracked Herb down where he was lingering in my house like a foul fart. I then addressed Herb and the current crap shoot by saying the following:
“Obviously this ISN’T working for ME or YOU so the best thing for you (Herb) is to GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE and take Sidekick Shitkicker with you.”
The immense relief and total wave of satisfaction in absolving myself of these two wannabe handyman half wits was the definition of utter bliss.
