A First Disaster

Sorry about the lack of postings. The holidays, combined with my own laziness, produced insufficient bloggings, not that many of you care.

My last post, an alarming 22 days ago, mentioned the possibility of a first sale. My bandmates expressed interest in what happened, since no update was available they were left clueless, as were the rest of you.

Anyway, a little refresher: A small convenience store needed some lights changed in their parking lot. After several hours I managed to get a truck to go out the next day.

I called Paul, the owner of the store, and told him we’d be there the next morning. I went to bed early, excited for newfound cash, and wanted to wake up early. The company with the truck, Lighting Maintenance, said they’d be there at 7am and would call me when they got there.

At 7:15 I hadn’t gotten a call so I headed out the door to see if they had arrived. The place, a Speedy Mart, was right around the corner, a few minutes drive at best.

When I got there the place wasn’t open so I waited across the street in a Home Depot parking lot. I thought that way when Paul showed up to open the place he wouldn’t think someone was there to rob him first thing in the morning. At 7:30 I called Paul to see when the Speedy Mart opened and he said the manager should be there at any minute. The manager showed up a couple minutes later. Lighting Maintenance still hadn’t arrived and I was beginning to think that I might be sitting here all morning. Luckily, I was wrong.

Mike showed up with the rig at about 7:40, so I pulled into the Speedy Mart parking lot and waited for him to exit the truck. He actually was on the phone for about 10 minutes and I decided not to bother him. He called me at 7:50, not knowing I was right next to him in my glorious, fabulous, Honda Element.

Mike was a stocky guy, without being fat. Perhaps it was the layers of coats and Ravens gear (side note: GO RAVENS! BEAT MIAMI!). He was nice and older than he looked. We talked about the Ravens and his kids and how he got into the business, you know, the usual guy stuff. I showed him the lights that needed changing and we, or he, set off to work, while I watched from my car. Within an hour the lights were all done. The problem was, the lights didn’t come on.

Mike and I headed into the Speedy Mart to check on the electrical box to see if we could figure out what was wrong. We found a lighting management system, probably from the days when the place was a 7-11, that was designed to turn the lights on and off. Since 7-11 no longer owned the place we needed to bypass the system and install a new photocell (a photocell control turns the lights off when it’s daytime and on at night.) The photocell was cheap, a mere $20, and we had one on hand, but we needed to call Paul to see if he wanted us to do the work. By this time it was about 9:10.

And here is where the collapse begins. Paul doesn’t pick up but I leave him a message.  Mike, the electrical grunt, and I, a lowly salesperson, are left with a decision to make. Do we replace the photocell and charge Paul the fee without his permission? Or do we leave without his lights working? The way I figure it, we have three options:

1. Fix the lights and charge Paul the $20 and $130 per hour.
2. Stay and charge $130 per hour while I await his phone call.
3. Go home without his lights working.

Mike and I both figure he paid us to get his lights working. Also, since Paul paid $130 just to get us to show up (Yes, $130 to show up and another $130 per hour) we figure another hour is a drop in the bucket. If we leave Paul will have pay another $130 just to have us come out again, and that’s pointless and he’ll be angry as hell that we didn’t fix what he paid us to fix. We also figure that sitting around and waiting for his phone call while charging him $130 per hour is, well, unethical. So we get to work fixing what Paul needs fixed.  We get on the roof, replace the photocell, and done by 10:15 or so. Paul shows up right after this as Mike and I are writing up the bill from the truck.

Now, I know that Paul is going to throw a fit because we took an hour and a half  longer than he expected. I know he won’t like it. Simply put, the years I spent at Terminix working with many Indian, Pakistani, and Asian people has taught me one thing: They don’t like unexpected bills nor do they cough up cash they don’t feel like they should have to cough up.

I knew this and I should have known better.

I go into the Speedy Mart and before I can utter anything Paul is yelling at me. He knows, he expects, the bill to be higher. He doesn’t like that Mike and I spent 20 minutes writing up the bill. He thinks we are out to screw him.

“You always do this” he shouts “I hire you to do work and then you bill me for things I never asked to get done.” He obviously means service workers and salespeople.

I explain the situation. How I called him, how he didn’t pick up.  Nothin’ doin’. He is absolutely convinced we have screwed him and he shouts and shouts and shouts. I offer to take off 30 minutes from the bill, since he didn’t like us sitting in the truck. Again, he won’t budge. He will pay us for an hour’s work, nothing more. He shouts, heads into the office, and slams the door in my face.

Meanwhile, Mike is in the truck having no idea what happened. I come walking out, hop into the truck, and say: “He isn’t going to pay us.”

“You’ve got to be shittin’ me.” Comes his surprised reply.

“Nope. He’ll pay for an hour.”

Mike is fired up. He wants to talk to Paul and together we walk inside. Mike offers to show Paul the work we did but Paul doesn’t want to see. He says, time and again, that he doesn’t care if we did the work or not, he’ll only pay for what he approved. I totally sympathize with this predicament, but Paul didn’t show up when he knew we were there, he didn’t answer the phone when I called. Basically, I view Paul as a cheapskate who simply wants out of the bill. I still hold this view. Mike and I politely try to reason with Paul, as Paul, in return, refuses to hear reason and keeps shouting at us. Paul calls the cops, which I know will do nothing.

Mike and I head back to the truck. Mike calls his office. The cops arrive. And the good old East Baltimore Cops try to sort through this wreckage knowing they can do nothing. They seem to agree with us, not Paul, probably because Paul keeps shouting while I simply explain the situation calmly. Hell, I even offer to do away with my share of everything, that way Lighting Maintenance can get paid and I can walk away with a bit of honor. But Paul still won’t budge. The bill, after I did this, was $90 to where he thought it should be. I thought this was a good deal for him.

The cops leave. Mike calls his office. They end up taking what Paul offers. I get nothing.

In the end we spent nearly 5 hours at the damned Speedy Mart, 2.5 actually working, and another 2 arguing over the bill. I have pride, and an honest day’s work deserves an honest day’s pay. And I see Paul, who reflects my view of foreign store owners, once again getting away with cheating a man out of his pay.

Imagine this, Paul got two men to work for him for an additional hour and a half, didn’t pay them, and got good work from them both. He gets the deal in the end, free labor. He doesn’t pay me. He can go about his business and I get cheated. I was prepared to take him to court because I hate the idea that some people get away with madness all the time. They get rewarded for it. Then they call you a cheat and a swindler in some sick attempt to place the blame on where it doesn’t belong.

Being in business for yourself means you gotta live with it, I guess.

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