I Have Surveyed The Problem, And The Problem Is The Surveyor

(My husband and I recently got our ancient windows and doors replaced, bar one. Turns out the back door was measured wrong by the surveyor. The company rings me and tells me a surveyor will be round in a few days, and sure enough, he turns up today — the same surveyor from last time. Okay, fine, mistakes happen to the best of us, and he does admit as soon as he comes in that the mistake was his. I offer him a cuppa and he refuses. He then does a rudimentary remeasuring and explains how it was he came to mess up last time.)

Me: *nodding and smiling* “Can you remeasure so that we can have a door that fits?”

Surveyor: “Yes.”

(But then he starts explaining to me how, at a lower cost — Excuse me? We already paid most of it! — they could take out more of our framework, and fit the original, incorrect door in. I ask him to explain exactly what this would entail, and he starts spouting jargon at great length, showing me diagrams, and waving around a sample cross-section from his bag.)

Me: “I’m not a surveyor; I can’t read these diagrams. Could you show me what you mean?”

Surveyor: “Um, I’ll show you on the front door. That’ll be easier.”

Me: “Why? The door in question is right here. Show me what you mean on the actual door.”

Surveyor: “Oh, well…” *jargon jargon jargon*

Me: “I’m still not understanding you. Could you please tell me the difference between the method you’re suggesting and just having a door made that fits this frame, as was originally agreed?”

Surveyor: “It’s a difference of £140 to me. I’m going to get fined for this if the door’s remade.”

Me: *taken aback* “Oh! Well, I’m genuinely sorry about how this will affect you. But we ordered what we ordered, and we’d like that delivered. Could you take the correct measurements, please?”

Surveyor: *fairly equably, to his credit* “Okay, then.”

(The surveyor then takes a jolly twenty minutes measuring this one door from every possible angle, and I stay in the kitchen, washing up while we chat in a friendly way about this and that. As he’s leaving, we’re still on friendly terms:)

Surveyor: “Well, we could’ve botched it, but if you’re prepared to wait a few more days…”

Me: *with a friendly smile* “Certainly, I am. That’s the way it goes sometimes, right? Well, goodbye. Take care of yourself.”

Me: *thinking* “I knew it! I knew your other solution was a botch job, I knew you were trying to fob me off, and I knew you were trying to guilt-trip me.”

(And that is the story of how I gained a little bit of self-confidence.)