The Builder’s Insurance Policy

By Todd Maguire on March 21, 2014 in Other

How come it’s always the ones with plenty of money who are the worst at squaring up their account?

Leon had been in the construction industry for a couple of decades and was a perfectionist; his specialty was brickwork and associated masonry work. Only once had he been fleeced once by a non-paying customer, early on in his career, and that experience worked well in teaching him how to spot a tight-fisted customer a mile away.

Leon was restoring a grand fireplace in a Bondi mansion for a well-heeled client named Will. From the outset Will had been a real pain in the backside. He had beaten Leon’s quote down by a third and proceeded to whine to the builder for the entirety of the job.

Will was a shade over 60 kilos, heavily balding with a persistently sour face; the sort of look you get from sucking on lemons all day long. To top things off, Will thought he was a real tough guy, strutting around thinking he was killing it. Unfortunately he had arms like a record player and would have had trouble fighting his way out of a wet paper bag. Leon wasn’t really bothered by the pest; he was just happy plodding away making sure every brick in the fireplace was set to perfection.

When it was finally time for payment, Will was nowhere to be seen. Leon contacted him on his phone, but was offered the entire ‘book of excuses’ for the lack of payment. “Don’t worry about it mate. I’ll fix you up next week as I’m a bit short of cash this week,” Will said.

Seven grand was seven grand, but Leon wasn’t too bothered. He half expected this from the sidestepping weasel of an client.

“Here’s the deal,” Leon offered. “You can fix me up with the ‘oxford scholars’ next week, as long as you promise not to use the fireplace before you pay up. If you can promise me this, then we can sort the payment out after the weekend.”

“Not a problem,” the client lied and hung up. He reckoned he had done well to give the builder the bum steer. “He’ll never get that money out of me. What sort of fool does he think I am?”

Three days later, Leon received a hysterical phone call from Will. “That bloody fireplace you built is a dud you stupid builder. My entire house is smoke logged and the joint is wrecked!” he yelled.

“But I warned you not to use the fireplace until you paid up,” Leon smiled through the phone.

“Just get your arse over here now and fix the bloody thing! I’ve got all your bloody money,” Will responded.

Leon couldn’t jump in his ute fast enough. He pulled up to the Bondi residence and found Will coughing up half a lung out on the footpath. “Here’s your bloody money. Now fix the damn thing,” he pleaded.

Leon made a careful count of the fresh crisp bank notes, placed them in his pocket and proceeded to his ute to grab a couple of tools – an extension ladder and half a house brick, to be precise. With the irate Will looking on, Leon scaled the ladder to the roof and dropped the half brick straight down the chimney. There was a distinct shatter of glass and, almost immediately, rich black smoke began puffing out the chimney.

Leon happily returned to the ground.

“Remember when I said not to use the chimney until you paid up? Well, I meant it, you dill,” Leon’s smile broadened. “For clients of your grade I always fix a piece of glass a few feet above the fireplace, out of sight. And when you don’t pay up it acts as a very cheap yet effective insurance policy.”

Leon couldn’t help but laugh as he aimed the trusty ute back home. The look of the grim-faced weed left standing on the footpath in his rear vision mirror gave him incredible job satisfaction.