Many and many a year ago when we were living in Brownwood, Texas, one of our cars was giving some transmission trouble, so I took it to Chubby's Transmission Repair. I figured I couldn't go wrong with a guy named Chubby, but several days later I hadn't heard a word about the repair. So I gave Chubby a call. The guy who answered said, "Chubby hasn't been able to work. He cut a couple of his fingers off while he was repairing your transmission." I did eventually get the car back, and it worked okay. I don't know if there were any fingers in the transmission, however.
Not so many years ago, we decided to get storm windows installed on our house here in Alvin. It was to be a one-day job, and a husband-and-wife team came early in the morning to get started. Before half the windows were installed, the wife rang the doorbell. I went to see what she wanted, and she said, "My husband just almost cut his finger off. I'm going to take him to the E.R. We'll be back tomorrow and finish the job." Sure enough, they did come back and finish. Did a good job, too, but I felt bad about the guy's finger.
Today I'm having a new washing machine delivered and installed. I was given a four-hour window, from 10:00 A.M. until 2:00 P.M. At 12:30 I got a call from the installation people. The woman who called said, "Your delivery might be a little late. The installer cut the top of his finger off while making an earlier delivery. He's leaving the E.R. now to start catching up."
If there's a lesson in all of this, it's not for me, I suppose. However, anybody thinking about doing some work for me might want to think twice.