You think a clover infestation is trivial, but that’s where you’d be wrong
You have a problem. The ceiling is leaking. Clover has taken over your garden. Part of your roof collapsed. You seek help. This is easy, you think. There is plenty of help. Oh, you sweet summer child. You have not yet crossed the rubicon, you sweet summer child.
There are good contractors and bad contractors, licensed contractors and unlicensed contractors, contractors that only work in places with seven-digit property values and everybody else. There are contractors with websites, contractors with Yelp pages, and contractors that are literally passed around in secret, a hidden cabal, a contact card that literally just says “Murray – Landscaping”.
You ping the homeowner group text that you absolutely must lovingly maintain as a matter of bare survival in the midwest prairie. “My home is softly collapsing,” you say, correctly. “Entropy is claiming it. What have you done to solve this?” You receive Murray, or Peter, or NG. The business name is “Text Only.” Your friends whisper: they are hard to get ahold of. Ping early & often.
Texting as arms race, as pick-me dynamic. You get it. There are too many homes and not enough fixers. You wonder if it would be worth your time to become certified as an electrician. Electricians will still have jobs within apocalypse. You may not. You posture within an elaborate video game for a living. You text.
Hi there! My friend $FIRST_NAME recommended you for $JOB_TITLE. $PROBLEM happened in $ROOM recently, and I was told you might be able to help. What does your availability look like within the next week?
An instant response:
Hi Where
You tell them. Then:
Oh normally we only work in $MONSTROUSLY_WEALTHY_NEIGHBORHOOD
You say:
Yes, but my friend lives at $ADDRESS_THREE_BLOCKS_FROM_YOU
A pause, then:
Okay Thursday ok
It is Sunday. Rain is coming in through your roof. You have no other choice.
Sounds good! I’ll ping you on Wednesday to confirm. Look forward to having you by!
Tuesday:
Rain in the forecast for Thursday. Now ok
You’re out of the house all day and “now” is, generally speaking, never truly ok. You say “no”, nicely, and offer some alternatives. Then you are ghosted for a week.
You text the group again. There are no other options. You check Yelp, ping several people, and hear nothing back. You have now crossed the rubicon, you have arrived, and there is no coming back from the grim bardo of homeownership.
Two weeks later, you are pinged again:
Sorry I was out of the country for two weeks family situation I can do Wednesday if you’re ok
The problem has ceased to be a problem, but you are indeed available on Wednesday.
Where again
You tell them.
We don’t service that neighborhood
Yes, but you’ve been here before, and besides you said you would come by a few times now. Let us know your rates, you say, as substitute for we’ll pay you anything.
Ok See you Wednesday
You are now one month in, approximately, since the problem. You feel helpless. You have consulted Bob Vila for advice, and Bob Vila has told you that you really do need a professional for this. You wait, you follow up.
Ok
Not “yes.” Okay. Shortened, unpunctuated.
They arrive a half-hour early, refuse your offer of water, fix absolutely everything while swearing up a storm, and charge you less than you expected. They don’t take off their shoes, never ask. You have now entered the cabal. The map of privilege has opened a crack. Home fixed, safe for now, ready for what’s coming.