The roofing game
I’m learning a lot about roofs. My last house had a roof that was problematic. So much so, that it required calls to no fewer than seven different roofers, (three of whom did any actual work) and took almost six months to repair.
My office had a roof funneled great quantities of water right onto the floor. This one required the work of three different roofers over the course of several weeks. I believe the process was expedited by the fact that I was able to stand outside and point right to the spot where I could see water entering the roof.
My current house needs a roof. It does this thing where rain starts out on top on the roof, but then ends up inside the house. And I don’t like that kind of roof. So I’m talking to roofers once again.
What I’ve learned so far:
You have a problem with dry rot. You. Yes you, assuming you have a roof. It doesn’t matter who you are, or where you live, even if you live in a tent or in a concrete bunker. You have problem, and “dry rot” is its name.
Modern roofs are made entirely of spun gold and crushed diamonds. Or at least that’s the only reason I can fathom for modern roof pricing.
Any roof installed by any roofer other than the one inspecting it “was put on wrong.”
Any roofer confronted with the assertion that he “put the roof on wrong” will counter he is the only roofer in the area who knows how to roof, and that the other roofers are all “idiots who don’t know nothing.”
Roofers are a lot like bad boyfriends. They never call when they say they will. They never show up when they say they will. And after they fuck you, they will never speak to you again, no matter how many messages you leave. You may be wet and frustrated, but it not their problem.
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No offense to flyman, who is a roofer of the highest calibre. I'm sure if he were here right now, all my problems would be solved.
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Ass, gas or grass. Nobody rides for free.
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