THE CONSTRUCTION REPORTER RINGS TWICE

The first tuesday in November on an even numbered year is always a gray, flat, wet day. My whole life, I can't remember there being a sunny election day in Charlotte. Somewhere the sun is shining, somewhere the children shout, but there is no joy in Mudville, for the Party has struck out. Myself, I'm having a ball, sitting at my office window, twirling a triangle on my index finger, looking like I'm thinking. I've gotten so good at it that I'm no longer scared I'll get caught. I used to actually think someone would be able to look at me and divine that I was thinking about something besides work, like that old Woody Allen joke about cheating on a philosphy exam by looking into his neighbor's soul. The ironic thing is that this is what I'm thinking: Gee, it's a good thing no one knows I'm not pondering some huge design concept or engineering problem, and instead just thinking my own, personal thoughts! Freedom! Freedom! FREEEEEDOM!

I have a sudden premonition that my phone is about to ring. Sure enough, three seconds later, the phone rings. Nifty! I'm becoming psychic! Then I realize what it really is: Liz, the person who isn't quite my secretary and isn't quite not my secretary, is giving me a sidelong glance through my open door. There is malice in her look. Confound it! She knew! She knew I wasn't thinking about architecture! Damn her eyes, the black-hearted wench! She'll not stop 'til my very soul is snuffed out like a

Then I answer the phone, having let it go for the socially acceptable three rings, just long enough to give the caller the impression that I'm busy but not long enough to imply that I don't value their call, and immediately I understand the look Liz was giving me:

"Hi, this is Jane at CDN! How are you today!"

It's the construction reporter. Now I understand: Liz's look was of one sure she was bedeviling another, the look of benign mischief. No one wants to talk to the construction reporter. In theory, anyways. The good news is twofold: this gray day is the perfect day to talk to the construction reporter, and my mortal soul is, once again, safe from the fear of espionage.

"Hi, Jane! How Are you today!"

"Terrific! How are you!"

"Much the same! What can I do for you?"

There is a trill of inappropriate laughter over the phone line, and I listen to Jane's voice intently, wondering if I've ever spoken to her before. She speaks up in a sparkly voice: "Well, I just wanted to check on the projects you have in planning, and get some updates."

The first thing I thought to say is "Get some updates? What kind of tree do those grow on? An update tree?" but that got me to trying to get a mental image of what an update tree would look like, and besides that, I didn't think she'd get the pun. So I said "Sure! Fire away, Jan."

"It's Jane. Okay, the first one I have is the Bank Of Cabarrus. What's the status on that one?"

"Eroding."

"Um. I'm sorry, is the project in limbo?"

"No, no. Just making a joke. Get it? Bank? Eroding?"

"Oh! Yes! Ha ha ha." The laughter sounded enthusiastic, which caught me by suprise, since it was rather a bad pun.

I said "Let's see, bank of Cabarrus. Now, I know Matt's working on that one, and they had a meeting last Thursday, and if I remember right the client's approved the Design Development package."

"Okay, so that means they're into Construction Documents, right?"

No, it means that the jerks at the bank finally decided they don't actually know how to design a building themselves, conceding that they do, in fact, need an architect, which is why they hired one to begin with, so they're going to stay the hell out of Matt's way for a month so he can get something accomplished, for Christ's sake! Or at least that was Matt's opinion on the matter.

"That's right!" I say, trying to sound like I'd give her a treat if she performed the trick again. "What else?"

"Well, do you have the square footage of the building?"

It's a bank branch. "Twenty-five hundred square feet, roughly. I don't have the drawings nearby, do you want me to get a set of drawings?"

"No, no, that's okay; if the square footage is significantly different when the project comes out to bid we'll adjust it." The way she says it, I think she's going to finish by saying "so help me God." She doesn't, of course. "Do you have the structural details?"

It's a bank branch. "Well it's a stick frame, bricked, um, they have a storefront, um, drive-thru, metal stud framing, gypsum drywall . . . what else do you need to know?"

"Well, do you know what kind of roofing system will be used?"

"It's . . . lets's see, I think they decided on a standing seam metal roof."

"Oh, good! I like standing seam metal roofing!"

The client didn't. They thought we were trying to up our fee by picking more expensive roofing. Until the saw they elevation drawings, at which point they went gaga over the design, while if they'd just kept their mouths shut they'd have saved themselves alot of time and money. Or at least that was Matt's take on it. "What else do you need to know, Janie?"

"Just Jane, please. Is there any idea when it's going out for bids?"

"No, there's no idea at all." Ideas, in fact, do not exist. I can prove it. Come to our morning meetings. I'll be happy to demonstrate. "Anything else?"

"Uh, sure. Do you know when the church will go out to bid?"

"Yes."

Neither of us said anything for a moment or two, and there was a silence that eventually became awkward.

Jane broke finally down and said "Can you tell me when the church is going out to bid?"

"It depends on which church," I said.

"Okay. Um. How about the Presbyterian church?"

"I have no idea."

"Oh. Are you sure?"

"Not entirely."

"But I . . . " Jane said, trying to make up her mind whether or not she would be being rude if she pointed out that I said I knew when the church would be going out to bid.

I decided to save her the trouble. "Now, we have a Catholic church that went out to bid last week."

"Yes," she said, "we have the info on that one."

"Then that's the only church we have going out to bid anytime soon."

"Okay. Is there anything else you're working on?"

"No. None of us are doing anything else whatsoever. Except for Allan. Allan's working on a medical office building. Would you like to speak to Allan?"

"Suuuuure!" she said, putting far more syllables in the word than it deserved.

I barked "Hold please!" and walked around to Allan's office and knocked on his door. He looked up at me and said "Go away."

I walked over to his desk and picked up his phone and clicked the holding line. "Allan's busy," I intoned, "But I can tell you what you want to know about the project. What do you want to know?"

"Well, I suppose let's start with the square footage," she said pleasantly.

I reached over and took hold of the plans Allan was working on. Flipping to the floorplan I said "It's 60 feet by 70 feet, Janice, and you'll want to multiply that by four floors."

"Great! What's it made of?"

"Marzipan. No, wait! That's just the way Allan's drawn it! Let's see, it's a steel frame with a stucco exterior. What's that? Hang on." Allan was waving at me. "What?"

"Client wanted stucco, hospital made 'em go to brick with pre-cast sills."

"Ah," I said. "Client wanted stucco, hospital made 'em go with brick and pre-cast concrete."

I heard Jane intoning "Brick . . . veneer . . ." as she took a moment to make her notes. "Okay! What kind of roofing?"

"Looks like more marzipan. No, wait! Allan strikes again! It's got some single ply roofing, and some more metal roofing. It's a banner day for you, Joan! More standing seam metal roofing than you can shake a stick at!"

"It's Jan. Great! Okay! Now, can you tell me what the total cost for the total project will be?"

I said "Just a sec" and cupped my hand over the phone and asked Allan "How much are you gonna soak these chump doctors for?"

He said "Open those drawings to a building elevation and I'll tell you."

I opened to the plans to an elevation drawing, and Allan picked up a scale and waved it wildly at the drawing. I took my hand away from the phone. "You'll be happy to know," I told Jane, "that Allan is, in fact, shaking a stick at all that Standing Seam Metal Roofing, proving that it can, in fact, be done." I turned to Allan and said "How much for the building, ya thief!"

"Thirty bazillion dollars."

I turned back to the phone. "Way too much. You couldn't afford it."

"I just want it for the Construction Bulletin."

"Oh! For the Construction Bulletin! For the Construction Bulletin, cheap, maybe even free."

Jane was silent for a moment, then said "I've done some quick math, and I'm coming up with about a million six. Does that sound about right?"

I turned to Allan. "One point five sound about right to you?" He nodded. I told Jane "One point six sounds swell, June."

"Jane," she said again. "When does Allan think it'll go out to bid?"

"I don't know. I'm not Allan. But I'll ask. Allan when's this going out to bid?"

"Never."

"Six months," I told Jane.

"Okay! So that means Allan's in Schematics now, right?"

I turned, waving a finger at Allan, and started chanting "Allan's in Schematics, Allan's in Schematics!"

"Well, I think that's all the information I need from you today. Thanks for your help! Have a good one!"

"You think I have a good one, you should see Allan's!" But she hung up before I could get it all out. Ah, well.

Allan looked at me and said "What are you doing in my office?"

I turned and walked out the door, saying "Work work work work work work work work work . . . "

I had just gotten back to my office when the phone rang. It was Jane. I said "Ah, Jill, from DNC, yeah, how the heck are ya?"

"Ah, I'm sorry to have to call back, but that medical office building, I forgot to ask, where's it located?"

"Thanks! See you next time!"

"Bye, Julie, and tell everyone at DCN I said 'Howdy!'"

James MacFarlane Williams