Building a new house is exciting. You finally get to the point where all you need is one simple thing... electricity.
Simple, right?
That's when you discover the power company operates on a completely different calendar than the rest of humanity.
You call them.
"Can you hook up the power?"
"Sure! We'll be there sometime between now and the next presidential election."
Finally, the big day arrives.
Around 7:30 in the morning, you hear the rumble.
You look outside expecting one bucket truck.
Nope.
It's an entire convoy.
Bucket trucks, pickup trucks, supervisor trucks, trucks that appear to be supervising the supervisor trucks. It looks less like they're hooking up one house and more like they're preparing to invade a small country.
About ten people climb out.
Coffee cups in hand.
Safety vests glowing brighter than the sun.
The first hour is dedicated to what appears to be the National Standing Around Championship.
Everyone gathers in a circle.
One guy points at the pole.
Another guy points at your house.
Someone nods seriously.
Another guy scratches his head like he's solving world peace.
One fellow walks around the property three different times just to make sure the house didn't move.
After about ninety minutes of intense observation, somebody finally says...
"Well... guess we'd better get started."
At this point, two people actually begin working.
One climbs into the bucket truck.
One operates the machine.
The other eight have apparently been assigned to Quality Control of Coffee Consumption.
Every few minutes one of them wanders over, looks up into the air, says, "Looks good," and wanders back.
As the homeowner, you're standing there thinking, "I could've made breakfast, lunch, and probably supper by now."
To be fair, electrical work is dangerous, and it should be done safely. Nobody wants anyone getting hurt. But from the outside looking in, it feels like the actual work takes less time than the planning committee.
Finally...
The wire is connected.
The meter is installed.
The lights come on.
Victory!
Not so fast.
Now comes Phase Two.
Everyone stands around admiring the completed project like artists who just painted the ceiling of a cathedral.
Doors stay open.
Engines idle.
More conversations happen.
Someone checks a clipboard.
Someone else checks another clipboard just to make sure the first clipboard was correct.
Another ten or fifteen minutes go by before the trucks slowly begin rolling away.
By now, what could have been a couple-hour job has become an all-day neighborhood attraction.
The UPS driver has come and gone twice.
The mailman knows everyone's first name.
Your neighbors are asking if they're building a new subdivision.
In the end, though, when those lights finally flip on, all the waiting is forgotten.
Well... almost.
Because now you're waiting on the internet company.
Good luck with that.
If you've ever waited for utility crews to arrive, you know the feeling. The work itself is important, and everyone deserves to go home safely. Sometimes, though, from a homeowner's point of view, it feels like watching a football game where there's more time spent in the huddle than running the plays.
Here's hoping your next project gets powered up a little quicker... and maybe with just enough trucks to fit in your driveway.
No comments:
Post a Comment