Life Lesson

When a Contractor Says It’s Okay For You To Help Him — Run!

I should have asked for references, pictures, and his social media page

Introduction

After living in an older house and realizing it was time for a bathroom upgrade, I made a poor decision when I trusted a contractor who knew less about construction than I did.

My old summer bungalow

The first house I purchased in my mid-30s was a converted summer bungalow in a lake community that, even after upgrading for winter living, was in need of bathroom and kitchen upgrades, which I planned to do as time and money would allow.

The upstairs bathroom was fairly small, smaller than the one in the basement which had been added before we bought the house.

I intended to do some of the work myself, starting with the demolition. Plumbing was not my thing, so I would definitely need to hire a plumber to rerun and/or add water lines and hook up the fixtures. Tiling would be easy. I had worked with tiles before and had a small, practical tile-cutting machine on hand.

With my list and measurements in hand, I made a trip to our nearby big-box hardware store to place a special order for delivery. It included all the materials needed, as well as a low-flush toilet, pedestal sink, and Jacuzzi, all in Kohler Ice Grey.

An offer I cannot refuse but should have

While there, I was approached by a young man in his 30s named Ryan, who worked at the store and was assisting me with my order. He mentioned he was starting his own business of renovating kitchens and bathrooms and was looking to establish himself.

He offered to help me renovate my bathroom, adding that he would do most of the heavy lifting and that I could help him, rather than him helping me. Figuring he knew more about redoing bathrooms, I agreed.

There was no charge for his labor as long as I allowed him to use step-by-step pictures of the renovation for his portfolio.

He reassured me that the store backed him up, had been out on jobs with a supervisor, and had enough experience to do this. He also volunteered his truck to remove debris.

Ryan and I spoke a few times over the phone in preparation for the initial renovation. All the material and fixtures arrived on time, I picked up the tiles, and we were ready to begin.

Because he owned a pickup truck and there would be very little debris from the demolition, he said we could use his truck.

The project begins

On the first day he told me he would take care of the demolition himself due to the small space. At the time, it didn’t seem like a red flag, as it made sense to stay out of his way for this part of the project, so I left for work.

He removed the old toilet, sink, plastic tub, and most of the tiles and had them loaded onto his pickup by the time I came home. He stayed for dinner, as per our agreement, and we talked through the process for the next day.

The first day seemed to go very well. I had no complaints, I was just waiting for when I could jump in and work with him.

The second day, he finished removing the rest of the tiles, medicine cabinet, sheet rock, and insulation. Again, by the time I returned from my day job, everything was loaded onto his truck. I fed him dinner, and we planned the next day.

The bathroom was stripped down to its original framing, and it became clear that whoever built my house skimped on the structure. I’d done this type of thing in that house several times myself and knew what we could be up against.

I allotted for it by buying extra materials ahead of time, it would be easier to bring back what wasn’t used, than to need something in the middle of the job and not have it.

We had discussed ahead of time, the possibility of needing to fix some of the framing. He seemed to take it in stride and suggested I help him hold the wood as he nailed it in.

Keeping in mind that this bathroom was very small, the ceiling repair, with me helping, should take only a couple of hours. But again, he insisted on adding the new pieces himself, and removing any that looked warped. Even so, it shouldn’t have taken him all day.

When I arrived this time, he had indeed removed a few pieces of wood from the ceiling and added some new ones, but they weren’t spaced apart evenly or attached correctly to both sides. That would make putting up the sheet rock an absolute nightmare as the beams needed even spacing for the edge of the sheet rock to catch.

He reassured me it was an easy fix, and he’d work on it the next day.

Until the framing was finished, he couldn’t finish the plumbing, and I could not help with the wiring. It worried me that he didn’t measure before he attached the beams and wondered how he would fix them.

There were red flags, so clear now, but once I started sinking into quicksand with him, there was no getting out, and we were sinking fast.

He ghosted me!

The next day while at work, at Ryan’s insistence, I received a very upsetting call around noon from him. Apparently, as he was cutting through a floor beam, he hit a wire with the reciprocating saw, caught a huge electric shock, fell through to the floor below, broke my saw and ended up in the emergency room.

There was no reason to do cut through a floor beam that I could think of. The floor and walls were solid, unlike the ceiling. Even if he was running plumbing, he should have been running it along the beam. Actually, most of the plumbing was already in place, we needed more for the Jacuzzi, and of course, I needed him to hook everything up after the sheet rock was up.

I left work shaking with anxiety as I drove home to make a shocking discovery.

The ceiling was the same as the night before, but the bathroom floor had a huge hole, so large you could fall into it and land in the basement. Debris had fallen through and landed on top of my washing machine, and some of the power was off in the house. I was beside myself.

I spoke with him after he left the hospital and he reassured me he would fix everything.

He did not show up the next day or the next — he never showed up again.

For several weeks, I tried calling him, but he refused to answer his phone. After I removed the debris from the laundry area and secured the exposed wiring, I blocked off the bathroom so no one could fall through. We did have a small bathroom downstairs to use.

I finally had the nerve to call his job and speak to his manager — that’s when I was informed that he had been fired, his place of employment never gave him permission to do work without one of their contractors, and they could not help me.

Apparently, he started several renovations for a handful of people who complained to the store about him. He never finished any of the jobs he started because he didn’t know what he was doing and was approaching customers behind the store manager’s back.

They did suggest I call my insurance company.

Insurance company to the rescue

Days turned into weeks, and two months went by. It became apparent that I had something needed to be done. I dreaded calling the insurance company, but they seemed understand and classified my case as “vandalism.”

They had a contractor over within a few days to do an estimate.

I told him the sad story and showed him the rest of the wood, copper, fixtures, insulation, etc. that had been sitting in my living room, ready to go. Only his labor and expertise were needed. Most of the debris was gone, except for the beams that needed to be replaced.

It didn’t take too long for him to write up the estimate, submit it to the insurance company, receive their approval, and start.

My lovely bathroom

The bathroom was fixed and done within a few days’ time and turned out exactly the way I envisioned it. Even the tiles I purchased were just right and matched the fixtures beautifully.

Now I could start putting it behind me, but there were a few more glitches. The insurance company called several times letting me know they were unable to reach Ryan, and told me how much the contractor charged them.

Wait a minute, that’s impossible. Labor doesn’t cost that much. He was there three days, and all the materials were on site. Something wasn’t right — I asked to see the bill.

Isn’t anyone honest anymore?

He charged them over $18,000, as he included all the materials and fixtures which I already had already purchased.

This was not a mistake on his part, he knew the items were there as he saw them and he approved them. He saw an opportunity to pocket extra money and thought no one would be the wiser.

This saddened me, and I did report it to the insurance company, along with sending them all my receipts. Now the contractor was on the hook along with Ryan, whom they never did find.

Months went by

Ryan eventually answered his phone. He was still living with his mother, so I old him the job was finished, the insurance company wanted to speak with him, and I asked him to replace my saw, which he refused to do.

I had enough of letting him get away with it.

In addition to evading the insurance company, I’m sure he never made good on the other renovations he started for other people — the least he could do is replace my saw. After filing a complaint, we ended up in court, where he was told to replace my saw by a certain date.

He waited until the last hour of the last day that the judge had given him to make good on the replacement. I waited for hours each day, then finally I heard his truck outside.

From my window I watched him exit the truck, reach into the back, and pull out a brand new reciprocating saw, still in the box. He left it on the bottom of my outside stairs, looked up at the window, gave me a dirty look, and the middle fingers of both hands, then got into his truck and left!

Lesson learned

Never again did I ever let a contractor or anyone who even looked like a contractor, approach me in a store or the parking lot of a store, nor did I listen to friends who had a friend or a friend-of-a-friend, who was a contractor.

I guess the old saying is true: “If something seems too good to be true, run!!!!”

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