The Marble Shower
The new wood floors looked great! The floor installers had ripped all the nasty rust and blue colored carpet from the concrete slab, put it in the back of their old pick-up truck and replaced it with the most beautiful oak flooring we had ever seen. We had endured the sights and smell of that carpet for over five years and the hardwood floors sparkled with their fresh polyurethane coating. This was the first phase of a major remodeling project to our home in Arlington, Texas, which began with the wood floors and continued with a brand new kitchen, including new cabinets, countertops and a new tile floor and would end with a marble shower in the bathroom. I coordinated everything with the subcontractors and carefully priced and planned each phase of the project. Mary and I stood spellbound admiring the beautiful hardwood floors.
“Have you ever seen anything like them?” I asked.
“Gorgeous. I’ve never seen one thing improve a house as much as these floors. Was the carpet really that hideous?”
“It really was. Did you see all that dust and dirt that came out of it when they dragged it away? I don’t ever want to have carpet in this house again.”
“I agree, but we have to take care of these floors if we want them to keep looking this good,” said Mary.
“I’m one step ahead of you,” I replied as I retrieved a mop and a bottle of special polishing spray I had bought from the flooring store. “It’s pretty simple. You spray a little of this on the head of the mop and it turns the mop into a magnet that attracts the dirt. And at the same time it polishes the floor. I’m going to do this every evening.”
“We’ll see,” answered Mary as she rolled her eyes. “And what are you going to do about the dogs? Aren’t their claws going to scratch the floor?”
“I thought of that, too.” I went into the bedroom and retrieved a bag containing 4 baby booties and 4 pieces of Velcro. “I’m not too worried about Shasta, because dachshunds have pretty little feet, but I have something for Chewy. Chewy, come here,” I called. Our black Chow Chow suspiciously stuck her head around the corner, questioning what was going on. I lured her to me with the promise of a butt rub; then I put the pink booties on her paws one at a time and then velcroed each in place. “Pink goes well with her, don’t you think?”
“You’re a nut case,” answered Mary.
At first Chewy skated around the house on the slippery floors like a child on their first pair of ice skates, but in a few days she got the hang of them. Not once did she try to take them off and soon it became a daily ritual putting them on her in the morning, taking them off when she went out and putting them back on when she came in.
“I’m surprised you don’t spray that polish on Chewy’s booties so that she can polish the floor as she walks around.”
“That’s a good idea,” I replied.
Every night I was true to my promise and polished our floors. Afterwards, I would sit and admire how beautiful they looked in our home.
Over the next 3 months, the other home improvement projects progressed well and the new kitchen exceeded our expectations and our budget. All that was left was the marble shower in our master bedroom. Mary and I had visited several homes with synthetic marble showers and decided that although expensive, they were the best alternative because of looks, durability and maintenance. There were not many marble plants, and we decided on Precision Marble in
based on a recommendation from a builder.
The salesman at Precision explained all the displays in the showroom
before leading us into a small room with a desk, 2 chairs and a catalogue. Mary chose the color and style. Fort Worth, Texas
“So, you would like the beige marble with a bench?” said the middle-aged man who, by the size of his stomach, liked to drink beer.
Mary looked over at me, knowing that it was the first I had heard of a bench and said, “Don’t look at me like that. You have no idea how hard it is to shave your legs standing up in a shower and I’ve always wanted a bench.”
“How much more is it?” I asked.
“$750,” answered the salesman.
I debated all the options and realized the best one was to succumb. “No problem,” I said.
“Do you want us to take out the old shower, or are you going to do that yourself?” the salesman asked.”
“What do you think honey?” I asked.
Knowing my long history of disasters with home projects she answered quickly, “We’d best leave this to the professionals.”
When it was all said and done, I signed a contract for $5,200. But, it was a once in this house investment, and we did plan to stay for a while.
“When can the crew come out to remove the old shower?” asked Mary.
The salesman looked at his schedule and then answered, “How about Tuesday morning?”
“That will work for me,” answered Mary.
“All right then and how about we start putting the new shower in on Thursday?”
“That quick? That’ll be great!” answered Mary.
On Tuesday morning 3 grungy, overweight workers dressed in t-shirts and blue jeans came to the door with a sledge hammer and a box of garbage bags. Mary pointed them to the shower and they walked through our master bedroom, across our new hardwood floor and the destruction began. I came home from lunch and couldn’t believe my eyes. The entire house was a dust cloud from the broken ceramic tile. Pieces of tile covered the bathroom floor and vanity like shrapnel. And then there was my new hardwood floor. There were shards of tile all over it that had apparently leaked from the garbage bags that the crew was dragging across it. It was an absolute nightmare! And then instead of cleaning up the pieces, they walked over them, grinding the jagged pieces through the beautiful finish of the floor and into the hardwood! I couldn’t contain myself.
“What are you doing?” I yelled.
The lead man replied, “We’re ripping out your shower.”
“But look what you’re doing to my new floor!”
He looked down and didn’t see the significance. “We’ll be done in a couple of hours and then we’ll sweep it off.”
“I mean the scratches! You’re scratching it all up!”
“Hey, calm down. I ain’t got to take you yelling at me.”
“Get out!” I yelled. “I’m calling you’re manager.”
The lead man signaled to the other two and they made a few grunts as they walked across the shards and then left. I pulled out a broom and a heavy duty vacuum and started cleaning up the mess. The new floor was a disaster with scratches every few inches and dust permanently packed into every nook and cranny. The old shower was only partially removed, but they had worked long enough to knock a hole in the ceiling and into the attic allowing cold air to pour in.
Mary and I looked at the mess.
“Maybe you should have let them finish,” she said. “Now we have even a bigger mess. And it’s supposed to go down below freezing tonight.”
“They’ll finish all right! I’ll get a different crew out here immediately. I’m going to call the manager of that tile place right now!”
The phone call made its way to the owner of Precision Marble and it did not go well. I demanded that he come and see the damage his men had done to my new floor. He evidently received a different story from his crew and was very defensive, but agreed to come to our house. While I waited, I took a package of post-it sticky notes and placed a yellow note with an arrow pointing to each scratch. When I was finished, the floor was carpeted with yellow paper. The owner knocked on the door a few minutes later. He was a nice looking Hispanic man, in his mid-thirties. He stared at all the sticky notes in disbelief.
“It was a brand new floor,” I said. “And they ruined it.”
“How much will it cost to refinish it?” asked the owner.
I quickly calculated. “It will cost about $500.”
“Fine, I’ll send you a check by the end of the week.”
“And when are you going to send a crew to finish the job?” asked Mary.
The owner looked directly at me and said, “We’re through with you. Find someone else to do your shower.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “You’re not done and you put a hole in my ceiling.”
He looked at me and smiled, “I mean, I’m going to pay you $500 and I don’t want anything more to do with you, now good-day.”
Mary and I looked at each other and were horrified.
“What are we going to do now?” she asked.
“We’ll just call another marble shop.”
I looked in the yellow pages and there were only 3 other shops in our area. I gave Gerry’s Marble and Granite a call.
“Yes, I would like for you to complete a shower for me.”
The salesman took all of our specifications and then asked me to hold while he priced the job. After about 10 minutes he came back on the phone. “The owner doesn’t want to do your job. He said something about a nut-case with sticky notes all over a wooden floor.”
“That’s because Precision Marble spilled tile all over the floor and then walked over it.”
“I guess that’s the reason,” he continued. “Precision Marble is our owner’s brother.”
I tried the next shop and received the same answer. I soon realized that all of the marble shops were divisions of the same family and no one would complete my job.
That night, a blue norther brought icy temperatures to
and the wind and cold whistled through the hole in my ceiling. Mary and I snuggled to keep warm. Arlington, Texas
The next day I continued calling marble shops until I found a shop not related to Precision Marble. They were nearly 100 miles away and I had to pay a 15% premium and wait almost 6 weeks. The check came to repair the floor, but I waited until the new shower was done to have it refinished.
When the remodeling was complete, we felt as if we had survived a small war. Unfortunately, within the next few months my employer relocated me to Tennessee. And, of course the house that we bought needs a new shower. But this time I think I’m going to go with fiberglass.