I'd like to hear from the members some of thier memorable service horrors.
We have all had them, the homeowner who has remomoved both three way switches and the fixture before you got there. When you look up and see 15 conductors sticking out of the ceiling lighting box and both wall switch boxes with 4-9 conductors pokeing out and wonder just how long it will now take to ring them all out and put them back together.....Replaceing the idiot DIY efforts of people who seem intelligent enough to have known better....
Anyway...I will start with one of my favorites...
The year was 1983 and I was a lowly and semi-trained apprentice working in St. Petersburg Fla. Now in those days apprentices were used for two very important activities in florida, these were commonly referred to as DITCH DIGGING and ATTIC CRAWLING. As anyone who has lived in florida knows attic temperatures can easily hit above 140 fahrenheit. Therefore prolonged "attic crawling" pursuits usually lead to complete and utter saturation of one's clothing due to the phenomenon known locally as "sweating". Also because of the local inhabitants fondness for massive amounts of insulation to be present in said attics, (usually reffered to as blown insulation), one would end up literally swimming and or pushing his way through massive piles of this insulating material.
Normally this might not be a problem of any consequence, but when one is soaking wet the insulating materials show an obstinate proclivity to stick to ones face/hair/clothing/shoes and any other parts that I have forgetten to mention. The end affect is that when you finally leave the hellish confines of the said "attic" you tend to resemble a wookie that has seen Darth Vader from too closely and turned prematurely grey as a result.
Anyway enough background, you have the idea....
My trusty journeyman and I have an install job for four ceiling fans, we know this will be a new install and therefore stock up with lots of romex and fan support boxes before leaveing the shop. (note that we only sold the 52 pound cast iron pigs also known as hunter fans in those days so that ceiling fan support boxes or cribbing a support between the joists was mandatory and not optional.)
We arrive at the job site, the customer is on-site and smiling that we have arrived on time....all seems fine. Then the horror descends, all four fans are to be installed in a "great room" with a cathedral ceiling.......
An investigation of the attic shows that this is indeed "possible" since the scissor trusses have an approximatly 12" gap at thier peak. The entire space is completely filled with blown celluose insulation.... (shudder)
My trusty journeyman has no problem thrusting me into this hellish constricted excuse for an attic where the sun is now beating full force on the black shingle roof inches above my back. I compliantly drag cable from box location to box location as my trusty journeyman cuts them in from beneath. On my third backwards claustrophobic trip back to the attic access I imagine fleeing to the hugh backyard pool and immerseing myself....I imagine myself as a aardvark...I am starting to hallucinate from the heat exhaustion.
Finally all four boxes are set and wired now I only have to tie all four cables to the switch legs from the cable I have helped fish....the end is in sight. Alas, I giddy from the heat and everything seems to take twice as long as it should....my coordination is shot. I perch in the attic above the entryway trying to make up this last box, my head swimming, wondering if I pass out what will occur. Will my trusty journeyman actually come get me or will my dessicated bones grace this houses entry forevermore?
The sweat drips off my chin in a steady rivulet, my clothes are soaked to the point that water is dripping from my jeans onto the drywall below me. There is a growing puddle beneath me on the top of the drywall but my only concern is to make up this last box with the light and fan leg seperate and then to escape this hell. At last I blank off the box and woozily make my way to the attic access.
Outside the garage hose is wonderful relief as I hose myself down from head to foot and my fevered brain begins to cool. My trusty Journeyman collects a check and wants to go on to the next call....I am sick out the window of the van....."no more today" I tell him.
That night at home the phone rings....It is my employer wanting to know "what did I do to the customers ceiling?". Since I have no idea what he is talking about and since I am still goofy from heat stroke I flippantly tell him to take to aspirins and call me in the morning and then hang-up.
To make a long story short (well...errr shorter anyway) My sweat puddle had actually stained the ceiling of the customers entryway....it cost us $900.00 to have the entry hall and ceiling repainted....ouch.
