Oh, so now I'm a marriage counselor????

As a travelling electrical hostess in Our Better Neighborhoods, I oftentimes deal with couples as they perform work on their home. But this one takes the cake.

A gentleman called me a few weeks ago about some service advice (It was tragic, I tell you: What was previously a perfectly nice Mid-Century was being transformed into a horrid little slice of Tuscanny by way of Issaquah)

At that time, I not only spoke with the gentleman, I visited the site of the desecration and left one of my distinctive door hangers.

This morning he called again, and again I visited the home, and spoke with him on the phone again, at which time we finalized the permanent power for his dreadful new "home".

So imagine my surprise when, upon returning back to The Major Concern, I found I had a vitriolic message from Mrs. Issaquah-Tuscanny. She accused me of never returning her husband's phone calls, and somehow got it into her undoubtedly hairspray-addled mind that we were suppposed to have hooked up her power last Friday (They haven't even paid the bill yet! Nothing happens at The Major Concern until the bill is paid)

Obviously, this couple is on the rocks. Divorve court is just around the corner. And I suspect I know why. And I further suspect that I know who is behind that dreadful, dreadful "makeover".