My Inner Pitbull ...

Way back in March, I had a structural engineer, the stoic Mr. Swift, draw up plans to take down our load-bearing walls.

At the time, I thought they looked like hieroglyphics, which I blamed on my total lack of construction knowledge. Turns out I am not alone in my inability to read his doodles because our contractor, Tall Drink of Water, has so many questions, he won't move ahead until he gets clarification.

TDW has been leaving messages for He-Who-Will-Not-Laugh to no avail. That's where I enter the picture. Part of my personality, which I usually keep hidden, is my ability to grab onto something like a pitbull chomping down on a choice bone and not let go until I get what I want.

So I begin the hunt: leave a voicemail ... no response; send an email ... no response. I step it up a notch. He has an address listed on his business card, which may or may not be his home office. I don't care. I'm showing up on his doorstep, bathrobe or no bathrobe.

After driving around the part of town that in the old days would have been described as the wrong side of the tracks, I find a half-hidden office building that looks like it hasn't been updated since the Eisenhower administration. It's dark and dingy -- brown, stained carpet with lights as low as a strip club's (so I hear from Mr. Hubby).

It's completely empty, except for two Pentecostal women sewing jean skirts. They are aware of Mr. Swift and his non-existent sense of humor and confirm that his office is indeed located in the building.

So I continue my journey to the dark side and eventually find #5, Mr. Swift's center of power. The only thing I see is a business card taped to the door, with an address in an entirely different city -- not sure what that's all about. I knock and swear a chair squeaks inside, but no one answers. I literally put my ear against the door and still think I hear something, but that door ain't openin'.

I go back to the Pentecostal women and borrow a flower pen to write a curt note. Within two hours, Mr. Swift calls me, probably terrified that I will continue to penetrate his fortress of solitude until we talk.

He agrees to meet TDW and me at the house, a pow-wow that occurred this morning. Stay tuned for details tomorrow ...