The Last Straw
I think we are losing it. This late into the remodel, we are starting to be crabby with each other and our patience for delays is definitely wearing thin. We think of ourselves as, more or less, the ideal clients for a builder - willing to spend pretty much whatever it takes for a quality outcome, happy to run errands when they need running, cheerfully forgiving of the inevitable mistakes and delays, making a coffee run for the workers each day, and generally being genial at all times.
I think our geniality is starting to wear thin.
Last week, we decided to pick up some paint that we need for a couple of patches in two different rooms. We had acquired, noted, and marked the perfect colors on the paint chips, consulted with the painter as to what equipment he might need and, on our way to lunch, marched off to the paint store for the millionteenth time.
That's when we hit the snag - I laid the paint chips down on the counter and went to consult with our salesperson about a technique and, when I returned, no chips. Gone. Vanished. Disparu! I looked everywhere and even searched through the trash buckets in the store (don't ever do that - you don't want to know!) to no avail. So, we couldn't order the paint. Which meant that we had to collect the blankety-blank paint chips again, take them home to consult again, and come back some other day with paint for the patches.
You can see that this represents, at worst, a minor setback, right?
That's why I say our good humor is wearing thin; we were both seething when we left, our reactions far out of scale with the size of the setback. Shoulders tight, teeth clenched, really, really ticked. I will give us credit that we didn't explode at the sales person, but we each knew we were on our last nerve.
So, we went to lunch. And we each had a glass of wine with lunch. We are not normally lunch drinkers but, by golly, we had wine for lunch that day! And it was a good thing. Between the wine and our excellent meals - My Beloved has mussels and frites, and I had steak and frites - and that blessed glass of wine, we were in a much, much better frame of mind when we left.
Just so you know, the restaurant is a favorite of ours called Rendez-Vous. It's a bistro with inexpensive, standard French fare, nothing fancy but everything cooked just right. They have little awnings over the booths with the names of Paris neighborhoods on them, and fun little French sayings on the walls. And, high above the awnings are "windows" of light with silhouettes, as if apartments were above filled with French folks living their Parisian lives. They even have a scattering of stone pigeons perched for authenticity.
I can recommend it highly when you reach your last straw.