I’m sorry I’m late. I kept forgetting to take a picture of the door and now that I have, everyone will get to enjoy.

The door!

We intended to replace the door to the fire escape in our laundry room. It needed to be done. The house basically has zero right angles and because of this, the door had been forced into a parallelogram type shape and caused the slats in the door to separate. You could actually see light through the panels. YAY! I know what you’re thinking, “Suzanne, that’s not so safe and no way near energy efficient!” Well, you would be correct. Hence, the change. Here is what the door to be replaced looked like. See the huge gap at the top. SLANTY SHANTY!

Let us begin this epic journey.

We ordered this door (because everything in this house is a special order) in August.  Brad, with whom I’m on a first name basis now, came to measure the door and put in the order. This took about three weeks to come in. When it did, Brad called and said the door was damaged. So, we reordered the door. This took another three weeks. When that door came in, it was the wrong door. Now, at this point, I normally wouldn’t have cared if it was at least semi close to the door we ordered. I just wanted the fucking door switched out. But we had ordered a door that was half windows and half solid. My slanty shanty is in an urban area and on the last street of a nice neighborhood. I like to say that we’re “hood adjacent”. The door that came in, however, was all windows from top to bottom. I’m sorry. I can’t have that where I live. That’s inviting someone to break in. So, back the door goes. Ross and I throw ourselves a little hissy fit at the store and after an hour of talking to minions and asking for a manager, one finally comes out to talk to Ross. They do refund the money for the door since the process for this door has been ridiculous and they were dicks about it. So, we reorder the correct door and wait.

This brings up to yesterday. Brad, who is actually the nicest guy ever and might need a round of applause at this point, removes the old door to install the new door. He removes the frame and says, “This needs re-mortared (which I’m not even sure is a word but there’s no red line underneath so whatever) before I can install this door.” He can’t up in the door. Now, we have to call the mason guy, which Ross has a mason guy. Have the door mortared and then call Brad back out to install the door.

I was at work when this all went down so Ross called me to tell me. I asked him if they were putting the old door back on and he said, “Oh, no. You’re going to love this.”

I said, “Fuck me, what now?”

Ross said, “Brad’s putting up plywood over the door until he came come back out to install the new door.”

This is what it looks like now.

So now, I have no door. There is plywood over a gigantic hole in my laundry room. And from the outside, it looks like I live in a crack house.