To: “Mr. M” <LIgifttoManLLC@xxxxx.com)
Subject: Fwd: SPAM-HIGH: Re: worst clients ever
New York City, August 21
Mr. M –
I thank you and your team for the (mostly) excellent work in our bathroom; once the showerhead slide bar is properly installed, once the showerhead doesn’t “sag” anymore, once we are in possession of the spare tiles (crucial in a wasteful society that discontinues products so swiftly), once the warranty for the linear shower drain is on my desk (how many times do I have to ask for it?)—then I will consider your job completed; only then will you receive your final check.
I’d like to take this opportunity to express my frustration. It has become painfully clear that it wasn’t a good idea that Charlie and I spend the summer “as far away from the action as possible,” as you suggested. Your style of communication was problematic at best and abusive at worst. What was so mind-boggling over the course of this sad spectacle of a bathroom renovation is that in person and over the phone you are “a born gentleman” (as Charlie, who first talked to you on April 19, described you), but in emails—sir, what is wrong with you?
Trust me, Mr. M, you’re not “Long Island’s gift to Manhattan,” a phrase you repeat so often you might as well paint it on your trucks (if you even have more than one). Although I have no illusions as to how you will respond to this suggestion, you may one day thank me for it. What I suggest is that you seek psychiatric help. I can hook you up with any number of mental health professionals at any number of first-rate New York hospitals and clinics, in particular Manhattan Psychiatric Center, if inpatient care should prove necessary (it will, in my professional opinion). Statistically, the patients of the Ward’s Island facility have the best chance of a full recovery; some of its rooms even have incredible Manhattan views.
You keep saying that as a result of our frequent and “unheard-of in the industry” changes, this job has actually cost you money. But my question in this regard (first posed in an email on the 7th, then repeated on the 12th and 19th, all of July) remains unanswered. Really, what changes? That you reinstall the toilet paper holder so it isn’t in the way of the toilet lid? That you lower the grab bar (the one in the shower) so we can actually reach it? Instead of providing me with an answer, you repeat that you never had customers as “difficult, frustrating and annoying” as us (when it suits you, you include my wife Charlotte in your insults; she’s been more often on the verge of a nervous breakdown since you’ve entered our life than in the many years preceding this unfortunate event). In your June 3 email you even bring in Ms. N, the employee you call “your girl,” as corroborating witness. Ms. N, no doubt a fine young woman, is on your payroll. What else can she do but support your side of the story?
I, as a spiritually-inclined man, also take offense that you (in your June 25 email) call upon God as your witness that you did the best you could to match our old faucet, which you were supposed to reinstall but discarded instead. Let me state once and for all that there was a post-it on it (a yellow one), indicating it be kept. But no, our faucet disappeared, and what Charlotte and I got instead is a parody of a faucet! “Where can you even find a faucet that doesn’t swivel?” Charlie wondered. You know what I think, Mr. M? I think you realized you hung the mirror cabinet too low for our high-arched (swiveling!) faucet, therefore disposed of it (along with the post-it) and installed whatever would fit underneath the mirror cabinet. Then you proceeded to blame us for not telling you that we wanted to keep our old faucet, which we, that is Charlie, did, with Holy Mary, the Mother of God, as our witness!
What baffles me most, though (talk about being “professional”!), is that you, as a contractor, keep referring to our contract, which included the precise scope of work to be executed, as “that old list.” You keep warning that if I mention it one more time, you’ll come in person (or send your foreman or whoever) and flush it down my “quality-installed” toilet. With that, Mr. M, you have clearly crossed the last line so that I have no choice but---
from Manikin
Subject: Fwd: SPAM-HIGH: Re: worst clients ever
New York City, August 21
Mr. M –
I thank you and your team for the (mostly) excellent work in our bathroom; once the showerhead slide bar is properly installed, once the showerhead doesn’t “sag” anymore, once we are in possession of the spare tiles (crucial in a wasteful society that discontinues products so swiftly), once the warranty for the linear shower drain is on my desk (how many times do I have to ask for it?)—then I will consider your job completed; only then will you receive your final check.
I’d like to take this opportunity to express my frustration. It has become painfully clear that it wasn’t a good idea that Charlie and I spend the summer “as far away from the action as possible,” as you suggested. Your style of communication was problematic at best and abusive at worst. What was so mind-boggling over the course of this sad spectacle of a bathroom renovation is that in person and over the phone you are “a born gentleman” (as Charlie, who first talked to you on April 19, described you), but in emails—sir, what is wrong with you?
Trust me, Mr. M, you’re not “Long Island’s gift to Manhattan,” a phrase you repeat so often you might as well paint it on your trucks (if you even have more than one). Although I have no illusions as to how you will respond to this suggestion, you may one day thank me for it. What I suggest is that you seek psychiatric help. I can hook you up with any number of mental health professionals at any number of first-rate New York hospitals and clinics, in particular Manhattan Psychiatric Center, if inpatient care should prove necessary (it will, in my professional opinion). Statistically, the patients of the Ward’s Island facility have the best chance of a full recovery; some of its rooms even have incredible Manhattan views.
You keep saying that as a result of our frequent and “unheard-of in the industry” changes, this job has actually cost you money. But my question in this regard (first posed in an email on the 7th, then repeated on the 12th and 19th, all of July) remains unanswered. Really, what changes? That you reinstall the toilet paper holder so it isn’t in the way of the toilet lid? That you lower the grab bar (the one in the shower) so we can actually reach it? Instead of providing me with an answer, you repeat that you never had customers as “difficult, frustrating and annoying” as us (when it suits you, you include my wife Charlotte in your insults; she’s been more often on the verge of a nervous breakdown since you’ve entered our life than in the many years preceding this unfortunate event). In your June 3 email you even bring in Ms. N, the employee you call “your girl,” as corroborating witness. Ms. N, no doubt a fine young woman, is on your payroll. What else can she do but support your side of the story?
I, as a spiritually-inclined man, also take offense that you (in your June 25 email) call upon God as your witness that you did the best you could to match our old faucet, which you were supposed to reinstall but discarded instead. Let me state once and for all that there was a post-it on it (a yellow one), indicating it be kept. But no, our faucet disappeared, and what Charlotte and I got instead is a parody of a faucet! “Where can you even find a faucet that doesn’t swivel?” Charlie wondered. You know what I think, Mr. M? I think you realized you hung the mirror cabinet too low for our high-arched (swiveling!) faucet, therefore disposed of it (along with the post-it) and installed whatever would fit underneath the mirror cabinet. Then you proceeded to blame us for not telling you that we wanted to keep our old faucet, which we, that is Charlie, did, with Holy Mary, the Mother of God, as our witness!
What baffles me most, though (talk about being “professional”!), is that you, as a contractor, keep referring to our contract, which included the precise scope of work to be executed, as “that old list.” You keep warning that if I mention it one more time, you’ll come in person (or send your foreman or whoever) and flush it down my “quality-installed” toilet. With that, Mr. M, you have clearly crossed the last line so that I have no choice but---
from Manikin