Death of a Double Glazing Salesman

A Bit of History
When we first moved into this house it was, to put it mildly, a little rough round the edges. The room intended to be the kitchen had a large sink fitted circa 1952 and a unit made out of a door. The bathroom had a delightfully unfashionable blue enamel suite and (the ultimate sin) carpet and wallpaper. The ground floor had orange carpet with wooden panelling hiding any amount of sins. There was an abundance of of vinyl wallpaper coating every vertical surface. It was a museum piece but it was ours.

I come from a DIY friendly family. My dad is one of those brilliant people who has a shed full of tools that have only one job and they do that job very well. He is also a mine of information - a walking instruction manual. He is also of that generation where the ethos is very much "if a job is worth doing, it's worth doing right first time". My mother, for her part, is full of get-up-and-go. She has a particular passion for stripping wallpaper and painting ceilings.

While our new home was going to be a challenge, it was mostly cosmetic. The central heating, roofing and windows were sound. The first task was the kitchen. It was something of a blank canvas so one weekend and £500 in B&Q and we went from empty shell to 21st century modern space. Dad and Simon worked like Trojans (there was particular glee taking a mallet to the door-unit). This was *fun*.

Giving the ground floor a make-over was also rather fun. Taking the vinyl off the walls was especially pleasant. I have no doubt at all that people will be having a good laugh at my tastes in 40 years time, but I'm fairly certain my colour scheme would never be so hideous as orange with artex fans.

So far so good.

DIY stopped being fun when we had to start involving other people. Up til now we'd been cashing in on my dad's skills but when it came to doing the bathroom it became fairly obvious that we'd need a registered plumber - especially to install the shower pump.

This was 2011. The recession was in full swing. There was no money for butter. Surely us wanting to spend a couple of grand would be a tempting offer to any starving plumber? We were under the illusion that all we needed to do was get some quotes, choose our favourite and book them in. I know, I know, what planet was I living on?!

We contacted about 8 different companies. All promised to come at various different times. None of them showed up at the designated times. Some didn't even turn up at all. One was over 3 hours late when I saw him pull up, knock at the house across the road, get no answer, go back to his van  and drive away. Of those who did turn up we got 2 quotes.

We eventually finished the bathroom that summer. We haven't decorated anything else in this house since. We were so relieved that it was over starting another room just seemed far too dangerous.

Three Weeks Ago
During a trip to see my parents, my Dad suggested I might want to do something about the porch. Our porch was probably erected in the murky mists of time when things like "planning" and "safety" were at the very bottom of everyone's list. It is a basic wooden structure with the original house front door recycled as the porch door. The whole things is perched against a little brick wall and the bay window. It isn't weather tight and its about as secure as a child's piggy bank. Additionally the door is rotten and due to it swelling in the rain we have to kick it to open it. That, naturally, does it the world of good.

It's a simple job. We just need to get a double glazer in.
I swear these people are out to turn me to drink. Company A agreed an appointment for a Thursday. They rang me Thursday morning to say, unfortunately, everyone is in a meeting and can't make it, can they reschedule? Sure. Fine. We rearrange for Monday. Monday comes round and I get another call...
The guy on the phone was rather surprised when I said that I didn't want to reschedule again and that their quote was no longer required. He then started to argue with me, saying that I cancelled the original appointment. Small tip to businesses - arguing with prospective clients and calling them liars won't get you too far.

Company B did turn up. He turned up on time which was a bonus. Company C eventually turned up (25mins late, not so much as an apology). Company D were also late, but they did leave a garbled message on my answerphone to advise they were running late - so we forgive them.

All of them got the same speech - we need to replace the porch. We thought perhaps sliding doors? That is the popular design down our road. AND DON'T FORGET THE LETTERBOX! Postman Pat should be able to deliver my bills and ebay purchases.

None of them remembered the letterbox. Not one. Perhaps they thought the letters would come down the chimney, Harry Potter style.

Company C's design reduced the door width to 520mm from 780mm. Company B wanted an extra £75 for the letterbox. Company D sent me a quote with lots of lovely pictures that bore no actual resemblance to what they would be fitting to the front of my house. All in all a rather demoralising experience.

One of them came up with a design where the door opened outwards, completely ignoring the rather solid brick wall I have in my front yard. The moment where I properly lost the plot came when one of them sent me a design where the door opened onto the bay window.

The quotes come without measurements, or say things like "removal of timber frame" with no mention of the offending brick wall. Back and forth, back and forth - "can you confirm this" "can you clarify that". I think I should be paid a planners fee!

If this porch ever happens I imagine the euphoria will be akin to when we finished the bathroom. It's like smashing your face against a wall - it feels amazing when you stop.