As much as this blog may lead people to believe my life revolves around degeneracy and having a good time, that's not an entirely accurate portrait of Pete P. Peters III (yes, I just added the III. If RG can do it, why can't I?). I mean, I've been a lawyer for 15 years. I clerked for two years; I then spent over a decade at one of the biggest firms in the world; and that transitioned into my current job. Hell, even before law school, growing up on Strong Island, I worked pushing carts and stocking the dairy aisle at the local supermarket for 6 years during high school and throughout college. I fucken hated that job; yet, I did it. I've never been canned/laid-off from anything. The fact of the matter is that, while I've certainly had a lot of fun over the years, when it's time to work, P3 III gets the job done.
As a result, I sort of expect competence from others . . . And this leads to the source of my current frustration . . .
. . . As I mentioned previously, I'm in the process of renovating my condo. The kitchen is first up on the list. I've been dealing with this project for about 3 months now, from the design stage to where I am now -- awaiting delivery of appliances/cabinets, et cetera on Wednesday, with demolition to follow. To get to this point, I had an initial design meeting. I then had the contractor measure the kitchen. I had two more design meetings to set up the layout. I had another meeting to pick out appliances. I had a flooring contractor come in to take measurements and provide an estimate on tile-work. I then had another design meeting to pick out counters, colors, finishes, countertops, etc. When it was all finished, I had yet another meeting with the contractor, who came by again to re-measure to ensure that the cabinets, counters, appliances, et cetera, would all fit the design scheme.
This was followed by nearly a month of tying to schedule and coordinate deliveries . . . with demolition . . . with installation of the flooring . . . with installation of the kitchen.
Finally, as mentioned above, everything is scheduled. The cabinets/appliances have all come in from the manufacturer and are awaiting delivery, which is set for Wednesday. The finish line is in site.
Last night, while watching Thursday Night Football, the thought occured to me - I hope all this shit will fit through my front door. My main concern was the center cabinet -- a rather large cabinet. A silly thought. Of course it will fit. The contractor has been over to measure twice. Surely he would have thought about this.
I get to work this morning, and this thought is still gnawing at me. I call my design consultant, who's employed by a company I won't name (hint: it rhymes with gnome repo). I voice my concern. She tells me the cabinet in question is 33x36 and says she'll contact the contractor just to verify all is OK. Shortly thereafter, the contractor calls. He says, "most front doors are 36 inches. That's standard..." That's great, but I'm pretty sure my door is NOT 36 inches. I drive home during lunch and measure. The doorway in question is 32.5 inches wide. Good times.
Apparently, this potential issue simply escaped my hired professional contractor. Indeed, rather than measure the opening to my place to make sure all the appliances/cabinets would fit without problem, the contractor assumed my door was a "standard" 36 inches. Now, as a result, I'm looking at scheduled delivery Wednesday of cabinets that I can't even fit through my front door. Better yet, I'm not sure what this means with respect to the design of the kitchen in general, and the remaining cabinets which have already been manufactured based on the design specs and are awaiting delivery. I'm a lawyer, not a contractor. But I assume that if one piece of the puzzle gets taken out of the game, it impacts all the remaining pieces to the puzzle. In other words, I'm not sure the solution to this problem is as simple as just replacing the one corner cabinet.
I emailed both the designer and contractor to let them know that the current cabinets are not going to fit through the door. Now, I await a solution from their end. I mean, there is a reason I choose not to tackle this project on my own.
I should have just sold my place as-is and bought something new . . . Fucken incompetence.