I Continue Taking Money Out of the Pockets of Fine Contractors

My love for contractors grows every day.

Yesterday I did an obvious repair to an air conditioner condensate drain line. Something that should have been done when it was installed. Today I got up and looked into the air handler closet, and I saw that things were drying up, and I decided to mop the floor with bleach, because it was mildewed.

I vacuumed it out and mopped it. Then I got a flashlight and looked around to see how things stood. And I heard a popping sound and saw a flash.

Guess what? The genius electrical contractors who have worked in that closet left a 220-volt wire hanging down with the end bare! It was touching the floor, which was wet with bleach, and it sparked.

God bless the brilliant contractors. They have outdone themselves this time. I don’t even know which fuse that line goes to. I’m going to have to trace it back and remove it.

This was an electrical Perfect Storm. The wire was bare. It was a 220 line, not 110. It was just the right length to allow the end to touch the floor. And it was in a room where the floor is often wet. I have to congratulate the guy who left it there. He is a marvelous example of his type.

How dare anyone come here and tell me I’m wrong to criticize the practices of the morons who have screwed up this house? How can anyone have the gall to come here and say I’m foolish to do my own work? The pinhead who left that wire exposed could have killed me, and he could have burned the damn house down. If this were not the Sabbath, I’d give a vivid description of what I’d like to do with him and that wire.

I guess I’m cheap and pigheaded for working on my own house, but at least I haven’t left anything behind that could electrocute someone. What if a family with kids bought this house, and one of the kids went in that closet and died? It’s a very real possibility. Forty amps and 220 volts? That could drop you like a bag of wet sand. If that wire landed on a kid and the breaker didn’t trip, his parents would probably learn about the problem by trying to trace the source of the smell of roasting meat.

The up side? The Romex is more than long enough to run through the garage wall. I think I may drill a hole and install a third 220 socket. It would actually be no harder than removing the Romex.

Oh, yeah. I’m the working man’s problem. Don’t blame their irresponsibility, greed, and incompetence. Those things are normal, and we should all tolerate them. I apologize once again for contributing to the downfall of western civilization by taking work away from the inept.