Oh Lord

"Jesus Christ!" the technician cried from the kitchen. He was here to haul away the old dishwasher, and deliver and install the new one.

I bolted up from the couch. "What?"

"I can't close this cutoff valve!" he complained. "Are you sure it's not closed?"

I shrugged and nodded and returned to the couch.

"Jesus Christ!" I heard again, but chose to ignore it. "Ma'am!" he continued. "Can you come out here please?"

It seems the valve was faulty-- dry when open or closed, but leaky in between. I assured him I would get a plumber as soon as possible, and went back to the living room.

"Jesus Christ!" he swore again, but this time it was partner who asked him what was wrong. "They used the braces under the countertops!" he scoffed. "That's not right."

The other agreed and went to get the new dishwasher from the truck.

"Jesus Christ!" a voice exploded from under the sink. "Ma'am! Can you come in here?"

"Yes?" I stood in the kitchen door.

"Can you explain to me why someone would put three clamps on the line leading into the disposal?" he demanded.

"Um... no," I answered. "Is that a problem?"

"Well it's completely unnecessary and makes my job that much harder!" he told me.

Apologetically, I returned to the couch.

"Jesus Christ!" he said to no one in particular. "Would you look at this floor?"

I studied my hands and wondered if I needed to report to the kitchen in shame.

Fifteen minutes and a couple of butt-crack views later, the new dishwasher was in. I thanked the team for their labor and I assured them I would have a plumber and carpenter assess the situation soon.

Jesus Christ! I thought, as I closed the front door.