Freudian Slip
Great moments in building history: Dan is your man
After I finished a bathroom-remodeling job for Dr. Pete, a local psychologist, he asked if I would build a new gate for his driveway. I declined, telling him that I had commitments for the next three months, with several more months of work pending.
“Hire some help,” Dr. Pete advised.
“I would, but good help is so hard to find. Not only that, but I’m pretty finicky about the quality of work that goes out under my name,” I replied.
“That’s no problem. I’ll make you a deal,” Dr. Pete offered. “You advertise for some help, and I’ll interview and psychologically test the people who apply. I’ll make sure you end up hiring someone who we’re sure can do the job for you. In return, all you have to do is fit my gate into your schedule.”
We sent 50 applicants a skills inventory, but only two returned it. Of those two, Dr. Pete recommended that I hire Dan.
“Dan is your man,” the good doctor assured me. “He’s smart. He’s athletic. He’s had experience. The worst that will happen is that he may lose a few of your tools. When can you start on my gate?”
It turned out that Dan actually was a good man. We finished working on Dr. Pete’s gate, did several small additions, and even reshingled a few roofs together. A small assortment of hand tools did “wander off,” but on the whole, I was quite pleased with Dan’s work.
I’d meant to tell Dr. Pete just that around the time I sent Dan out on his own to start a new roofing job while I finished up the one we were working on. “Here’s the address of the house that we’re going to work on next,” I told Dan. “I want you to go over there and begin tearing off the old cedar shakes that are there now. Do you know where this house is?”
Dan assured me that he did, and that there was no problem. As he drove off, I realized that of course Dan would know where the house was—it was right across the street from Dr. Pete’s gate, which he had helped me with as his first job.
At noon, Dan returned full of smiles. I came down off the roof to join him for lunch, and he proudly announced: “You’re not going to believe this, but I’ve got almost the whole back of that roof torn off. I’m not going to be able to work much longer, though. Those black asphalt shingles are too hot, and they all stick together.”
That evening after dinner, I telephoned the good doctor.
“Dr. Pete, remember that guy you tested and told me to hire?”
“Yep.”
“And remember how you assured me that your skills inventory was as precise a measuring instrument as my folding rule?”
“Yep.”
“And remember how you told me that the worst I could expect would be for him to lose a few of my tools?”
“Yep, I remember.”
“Well, Pete, Dan has lost a few of my tools, it’s true. He’s also been a pretty good helper. So good, in fact, that I sent him out alone to start the tear-off on my next roofing job.”
“And?”
“And he tore the shingles off the wrong house, Pete!”
“Well, what are you going to do?” he said between intermittent chuckles.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. “We both agree that people have to be responsible for their mistakes, right?”
“Right,” Dr. Pete affirmed, chuckling just a bit less.
“Well then, the question we should ask is not what am I going to do, but what are you going to do? The roof Dan tore the shingles off of is on top of your house.”
Drawing by: Jackie Rogers
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