Back in March I had to buy a new hot water heater, which involves a city building permit. The city has to inspect the installation. The inspector showed up at eight yesterday morning although I had asked the installation company to set it up for this morning. The installation failed the inspection because the type B vent is touching the combustible sheetrock. This is a BAD thing. My water heater works very hard to keep up with the showers of a teen male, so the vent is frequently hot.
I called the installation company, requesting this repair be made today. They would call me back, they claimed. This morning the same city inspector showed up to inspect the repair, which, duh, had not been completed. More calls to the installation company...someone will call me within thirty minutes with the time they will arrive to make the repair. Yeah, right. That was two hours ago.
Finally the phone rings. I grab it. A timid-sounding woman introduces herself. I figure she's timid because she knows I am an unhappy customer (she doesn't even know about my ex-husband's latest stunt, after all, and that I am fuming enough to turn emails green). She launches very slowly into a Texans for John Kerry spiel. "Oh," I say, "I thought you were calling to fix the hot water heater!" She decides she will call back some other time. She probably senses I "still need one-inch minimum clearance to combustibles on my type B vent".
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