Last Saturday, the plumber we hired to install two new faucets in our master bathroom caused us more than a few problems by installing (incorrectly) one of the faucets and then suddenly proclaiming that it wasn't possible to install the other one without prying off (and presumably ruining) the counter top to install the other -- and that he couldn't do it and we'd need to find a general contractor who dealt with countertops as well as plumbing.
This would have been a pain in the a$$ under any circumstances, but we had two appraisers and two realtors scheduled to do market analyses on our house on Monday, so it was a HUGE problem. The only thing I could think of to explain the mismatched faucets was to say that the plumber wasn't finished. All the appointments took place around lunchtime, so although I didn't explicitly lie, I think they all assumed that I meant the plumber would be back to finish after lunch. Fat chance.
Fortunately, the next day, DH, who by then was back in Washington, worked the phones until he found a general contractor who said he had a "little genie" of a plumber. I admit to being a bit bemused by this description, but I was pretty darn desperate, so I tried to avoid thinking of harem costumes and to just go with the flow.
The new plumber showed up on Wednesday -- he was a tiny little man who told me he had 65 years of plumbing experience -- I'm barely over 5 feet tall myself, and I felt like a hulking giant standing next to him. My first thought was, "Oh no. He's never going to remove that countertop." And I was right; he was never going to remove that countertop. Because that contractor was right -- he is a little genie -- and he didn't have to.
So the little genie, with his L-shaped wrench, was able to fix in an hour what the strapping younger plumber wasn't able to do after working on it all day.