Friday, October 17, 2008

When all else fails, pain motivates more than any other tactic

ne·go·ti·ate: verb, 1 a: to deal with (some matter or affair that requires ability for its successful handling) : manage b: to arrange for or bring about through conference, discussion, and compromise
2 a: to transfer (as a bill of exchange) to another by delivery or endorsement b: to convert into cash or the equivalent value
3 a: to successfully travel along or over


That word has more uses than most people realize. The most obvious deals with negotiations on a financial model. You negotiate your interest rates, your auto loans, your business deals.

You can also negotiate an obstacle course, or a road map while driving, or you can choose to negotiate a conversation with your spouse. As in, avoiding words that might prolong something that she sees extremely important, to something you see as trivial, or even as more of a NOOOOO-SANCE (sp?=inside joke).

But when trying to install new waste lines for a hall room bath, "negotiate" is not a word I would use.

"Negotiate" has little quips attached to it. Like, "no one likes to negotiate, or "the best negotiations end with no one winning", or some shit like that.

So, when I am "negotiating", I tend to set a limit or stopping point. Now, this isn't always measured in time, but after certain things have been tried, and we still don't have a deal, I usually go to plan B, which entails some sort of "force". If that is not an option, or advisable, and the situation allows, then I walk away to gather more info, and fight another day.

So, when a friend explained to me yesterday, that he was trying to "negotiate" the joist that was in the way to install a new waste line, and I was above him in the hallway bathroom trying to guide the down pipe, all while losing my mind, I decided that force was in the cards. "NEGOTIATE?!?!?!, are you fucking kidding me?!?", was my reply. We all have our boiling points. The use of that word was it for me.

Obviously the "joist" was looking for a better deal. Obviously it thought that at this point (which was 4 days into a hall bath redo), it could hold out for better terms. I on the other hand had enough. There was no way an inanimate object was going to outplay me. Nor was it going to "have me by the balls", as this friend had stated over and over.

So I said, "hang on, Mother Fucker!!", and got up from my prone position, picked up the saw-zaw, ran, no, jumped down the flight of stairs into the basement, and headed right for the laundry room where my "friend" was on the ladder.

He looked at me with horror as I wielded the power tool flailing above my head with bright orange eyes (his words) and crazy hair, ripping the dryer out of the way so I could reach the outlet to provide power to my implement of destruction, and shoved him off the ladder. I made rather quick arragements to add support to the floor for the action I was about to take. I took that saw zaw and relocated about 3ft of that 12'' joist all the while my friend trying to calmly tell me that he didn't think this was necessary.

"Isn't that joist there for a reason?" asked the friend. "Of course it is you dope. But I will not stand by and waste another fucking minute to come to a conclusion that will ultimately end with this course of action anyway. This is how I negotiate." See, action is always better than presumption. Right or wrong, it's always better. The new section of pipe was istalled, a new joist was put in place and the temporary supports were taken down. I am happy to say that the bathroom redo is complete. Fuckers.

Al sent me a text last night about around 11pm asking if I was alive. I think I replied "fuck you" or something of that nature. I was salty and about an hour away from completion. I use this public forum to acknowledge my transgressions and apologize to the Reverend. Although I have the feeling that he was laughing and toasting with the locals at the pub after that little dialogue via text. He loves to see me all jammed up. Not in a bad way, but in the sense that it provides him massive amounts of entertainment. So in that regard, I'm glad I can be of service.


I have lost track of a lot this week. I have gotten behind in a lot of projects because of this one. Projects that pay me as opposed to ones I pay for. I don't know why I don't pay people to do these things. First thoughts are because I get so much "enjoyment" out of doing it myself. But the aggravation is becoming -EV.

At least now I can start writing about the Phils, the Eagles, Poker, Politics, and other stuff I actually enjoy. For now, its time to clean up. Maybe I'll take some pictures of the new bathroom and post them here. That will have to wait for the wife to do her part and purchase artwork that "matches" the new color.

Here is wishing everyone a calm and relaxing weekend. I plan to spend it on the new toilet.

5 comments:

NutzCarson said...

I want to write a book called "All Jammed Up, the life of Riggstad".

RaisingCayne said...

Congrats on completion of the project. Enjoy the new throne, and have a good weekend.

BamBam said...

I think I'll co-author with Cars., since I can definitely predict the ending already! The last sentance would read....

And that's Riggstad,
Done-and-Done !

Oh and if you text me to say you're on that new shitter.....
Beware the reply PUNK !

;)

kurokitty said...

These are called "aggressive negotiations," ala the Star Wars movie.

Perticelli's Plunder said...

"...I wielded the power tool flailing above my head with bright orange eyes (his words) and crazy hair, ripping the dryer out of the way so I could reach the outlet to provide power to my implement of destruction, and shoved him off the ladder."

...-"and shoved him off the ladder" no less

HAHAhas;ejncnw;rkj c;4tjriojvmemuxtpnrg9uerv[r9vjefve[m9vrf9vrpn9bfnv9oe],-0f[wrhgn35nrgm'oidvje[rfv/lihaekmc'34ojv'wrkev/c,s c;i3wittrL;estd/kltRFikvnewrjnv'wrjnvwkrnevce!! Gold Jerry, Gold!