© Carey Decevito, 2016
Chapter 4
Two weeks, some advertising, and loads of paperwork later, TL Construction & Engineering was born and open for business.
Thanks to Jake Landen and his expert advice on small businesses – Paxton's best buddy helped me with a few legal hurdles for a nominal fee.
Before I could start thinking about tools and equipment, I knew I needed a reliable vehicle, not to mention another method to load up the larger pieces of machinery I'd be needing, depending on the jobs I'll be working. My new Ford Super Duty truck definitely fit the bill, along with the closed-in trailer that now boasted my company logo on its sides and rear. Things were definitely taking shape at a whirlwind pace.
Shopping for a home for myself had been next on my to-do list, and had proven to be easier than I had expected.
I stumbled upon an old Victorian farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. It was dilapidated and in desperate need of some tender love and care, but it had always been the kind of house I wanted. So I jumped on the opportunity, despite being told by the realtor that I'd be best levelling the place and building something new on its land. The place was a major gut, that was true, but it was bound to be a place of pride when I was done with it.
Less than a week after TL was established, calls began to pour in. It left me wondering how in the hell I would find the time to turn my new digs from the deathtrap it was to the vision I held in my mind. But business was business, and money was going to be needed to effect the required changes. I'd just have to deal with spending all of my extra time tending to my own house. Then again, I wasn't much into the social scene like I once was.
Over the course of the next week, I played Mr. Fix-It for a lady whose husband had botched what was, in my opinion, a simple basement renovation. I'd ended up having to run new electrical, as well as fix plumbing, not to mention some structural issues, and wait for the lot to be inspected and approved. All this before getting to what the initial project was all about, the esthetics. Come Friday night, and after the long and frustrating hours I'd pulled, I was relieved to have a moment for myself beyond an hour.
Imagine my surprise when my phone rang with an unknown number that same night.
"Is this TL Construction?" a panicked female voice sounded over the receiver as soon as I answered.
"It is. Can I help you?"
"I hope so. You're the only one I've called who's picked up."
Probably because it's eight o'clock on a Friday night, lady, I thought, but told her, "Listen, not to be rude or anything, but it's after hours, so why don't you tell me what it is exactly that you're calling about?" I grabbed for the bottle of Bud Light I had been nursing for the last hour while I was stripping away some drywall in the kitchen and tilted it back.
"I need someone to come and plug up my hole?"
Sputtering, I choked out an, "Excuse me?"
"My kitchen roof is leaking. The water's run into my living room and converted it to an indoor pool, and-"
"Ah!"
Her sigh was heavy with exhaustion. "I know it's late, and on a Friday no less, but is there any chance I can persuade you into checking things out? I'll pay extra, if that's what it takes."
"What's your address?" I found myself asking, disbelieving the fact that I was about to let my home project go down the proverbial poop shoot when I hadn't had the time all week to work on it.
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