She just corrected, and we moved on. She never got impatient. She never apologized, no matter how completely wrong she was. She was unflappable, and with some of my own common sense (no, I'm not going to make a U-Turn there), we got where I was going. I decided to try to emulate GPS in kitchen fixing.
So when I called Rocco in Brooklyn to arrange pickup for the metal cabinets he was going to sandblast and powder coat by Friday, and he hadn't even started, I tried GPS-itude. That meant no outrage. No crying. Calmly: Can you have it for me Monday? Maybe.
Then I talked with the contractor about bringing up the appliances from curbside, which is as far as the appliance store would come. And by the way, the refrigerator doors have to come off to get through the door. The contractor said you need a special tool to get the refrigerator door off. He didn't have that tool.
I called the appliance store, and it would be $185 to bring the appliances up and into the apartment. "Get the contractor to do it," Mr. Gutierrez insisted. "He says it takes a special tool to get the refrigerator door off," I said. "It's a SCREWDRIVER," said Mr. G.
Calm: Next phone call, the contractor agreed to bring in my appliances.
Was I nice and GPS cool? Does GPS sound calm and smooth but underneath is a nervous wreck?
I bought a bottle of tequila and had a great big shot. Does GPS drink?
Well, the floor is looking good. Sunny from Malaysia laid it in a herringbone pattern with the big porcelain tile.
Chipped away peeling ceiling ready for skim coating in the living room. It's a mess.
I admire some of the patterns in the demolition.
We've been making toast and coffee on the balcony, but there were some truly cruddy days, so toast in the bathroom. Yum.
Now here's a bathroom. Not mine. One of the contractors sent me to an apartment in the coop that he had remodeled. The bathroom was truly something.
There are also chandeliers in the kitchen.