My house is for sale (this is not a secret). It has a two-car garage. I always park in said garage, and I have a remote in my car. I always use the remote, usually engaging it when I turn into the circle where I live. I love seeing the garage door lift up at my command from as far away as possible.
So imagine my surprise one day last week when the garage door does not automatically go up. Oh, it tries to all right. It goes up part-way on one side, for about one foot. I see something is wrong and immediately press the opener again to stop it, and press again to make it go down. It kind of goes down.
I let myself in using the front door. My house had been shown that afternoon so thankfully I hadn't locked the deadbolt because my key doesn't work on the deadbolt; only the doorknob was locked so the realtor could get in using the key in the lock-box, which works fine.
I make my way to the attached garage, and see dust and a rock (turned out to be a calcified hornet's nest, small fist-sized) on the floor, a few bolts and one of the rolling-thingies too.
Very long story short, my son-in-law came over, tried to fix it, he couldn't. The frame is all out of sorts, on both sides. Bolts from both sides were shot out and also from the ceiling part. He got them back in, but couldn't pound the frame back into place.
He said what happened was that someone turned the t-handle (manual thing) and locked it. So that when I tried to raise the garage door remotely, it couldn't go up. Well, it TRIED but it was like Samson pushing at the pillars.
So I knew that ~I~ didn't touch the t-handle. I never touch the t-handle. I called my realtor, left him a message, and it turns out the potential buyer, when leaving, had thought he'd seen a gap near the garage door bottom (it is not a gap, but there is some cement missing on the driveway near the garage door). So I guess he turned the t-handle thinking it would make the garage door meet the driveway?? Which really wasn't the issue and really wasn't HIS issue to try to fix.
And then along I come be-bopping home, assuming everything was just as I had left it that morning. Clicking my remote, and of course, garage door disaster ensued.
I know you shouldn't "assume" anything, but in my own home, I am KING (er, QUEEN). We expect A to always be A, tuna to always taste like tuna, and the garage door to always open in the same fashion.
We do not expect strangers to put their cotton-pickin' hands on our stuff and break them.
No comments:
Post a Comment