Anonymous Poster
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- Sep 27, 2005
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I got talked in to helping a co-worker named Greg pour a concrete floor last Saturday. The floor was for a 20’ square shop he had built. Names have been changed but this shows what happens when pride takes over and the brain stops.
He figured all day Friday at work to see how much concrete to order. I told him I knew how to figure it or he could just call the supplier and tell them how big and how thick the slab would be and they would figure it for him. He replied that his Dad had said the same thing but he knew what he was doing.
When I arrived at his house Saturday he was standing in the back yard arguing with his father about how much concrete was needed. Dad was saying something about paying too much for concrete he didn’t need, wasting his time, etc. Well the truck finally got there and it was one of those huge rear engine types. The floor was poured and we started working on it. Everything was going fine when the truck driver said he had some mix left and since it was paid for where did we want it. We quickly found some two by four’s and formed a sidewalk from the shop to the back door on the house. Pop was raising he** all the time about ordering too much concrete. Truck driver said more left in truck. Pop still raising he**. We formed and poured a sidewalk from the new shop to the garage. Still concrete left but not much so it was poured at the end of the driveway where it was washing out. Pop still raising he**. Finally Greg told his dad to just shut up and go home and the old man did, still mouthing about too much concrete being ordered. As soon as Pop’s truck backed out of the driveway Greg took off inside the house at a run. When he returned five minutes later, you have probably already guessed this, he said, “I thought the old ba***rd would never leave so I could call and stop the second truck”
He figured all day Friday at work to see how much concrete to order. I told him I knew how to figure it or he could just call the supplier and tell them how big and how thick the slab would be and they would figure it for him. He replied that his Dad had said the same thing but he knew what he was doing.
When I arrived at his house Saturday he was standing in the back yard arguing with his father about how much concrete was needed. Dad was saying something about paying too much for concrete he didn’t need, wasting his time, etc. Well the truck finally got there and it was one of those huge rear engine types. The floor was poured and we started working on it. Everything was going fine when the truck driver said he had some mix left and since it was paid for where did we want it. We quickly found some two by four’s and formed a sidewalk from the shop to the back door on the house. Pop was raising he** all the time about ordering too much concrete. Truck driver said more left in truck. Pop still raising he**. We formed and poured a sidewalk from the new shop to the garage. Still concrete left but not much so it was poured at the end of the driveway where it was washing out. Pop still raising he**. Finally Greg told his dad to just shut up and go home and the old man did, still mouthing about too much concrete being ordered. As soon as Pop’s truck backed out of the driveway Greg took off inside the house at a run. When he returned five minutes later, you have probably already guessed this, he said, “I thought the old ba***rd would never leave so I could call and stop the second truck”
