“That’s it?” he said. “No way. It’s not worth my time. This job would be like airlifting someone in to do a manicure.” I looked down at my hands. He said he would charge me $550 plus materials, and insurance of “about $250, or more, who knows?” that he would have to “reimburse the building for.” That last part didn’t sound right. I know these workers are personally insured, but reimbursing the building? While I was deciding how to tell him no, he said, “Sorry, this isn’t worth my time,” and walked out.

Step 2
By the book: the Yellow Pages in print.

So much for superpages.com. I turned to the actual book instead. I had little confidence—I figured it would be more outdated, with a high risk of paper cuts—but once I turned to the Paint section, I felt relieved. I had all the listings laid out in front of me, and, more usefully, I could read the ads (the ads, I realized, are the whole point). I settled on Premier Painting (800-273-9498; premierpainting.info), because it said “Affordable Prices” and “Over 30 Years Experience.” That seemed like a winning combo. According to its Website, the company does everything from bathrooms to “exteriors for multi-story buildings.”

I called on Friday at 6 P.M. A woman took my info and said someone would call back. Within three minutes, I heard from Ed Hession. I explained the project to him—and I was pretty nervous, after that last guy had left me at the altar earlier that day.

“I should be able to swing by in about an hour or so,” said Ed. And he did. This guy not only won the promptness contest—EMS could even learn from him—but he showed a real devotion to his company, coming over on a Friday evening. (And when I say “his company,” I mean it—Ed’s the president.)

I led him into the loo and showed him all the little detail areas. “This won’t be a problem,” he said. He even consulted on color, suggesting I stick with spring green and warning me about dark chocolate’s room-shrinking effect. I was impressed; Ed seemed ready for his own HGTV show. We made an appointment for Monday at 10 A.M.

Ed showed up on time, ready to get down to business. About five minutes after he went inside the bathroom, he’d already laid down a tarp and taped the moldings. He did a virtually flawless job in about four hours—no visible drips or overlaps, a consistent semi-gloss shine, and the details were right on target. Later, I checked the harder spots, like the intricate door and ceiling moldings. I didn’t find a flaw, anywhere. It was well worth $300. Ed was a major keeper.

Step 3
The new kid on the block: Home Depot.

Next up: new blinds. For that, I tried Home Depot’s installation service, which the store has been advertising on TV. Home Depot hires independent, licensed contractors to install products you buy in the store. They’re mostly the same contractors you find in the Yellow Pages, but Home Depot picks for you.

Things started off great. At the Home Depot on 23rd Street (212-929-9571), a “concierge” pointed me upstairs, to the back corner, where I found a friendly customer-service rep. “Do you rent?” she asked. I said yes. “Then, considering it’s not a permanent thing, those Levolors you chose are too expensive,” she said, pointing me to less expensive Northern Heights.

After I picked my blinds, the next (optional) step was to pay a refundable deposit of $65 (plus tax) for the windows to be measured, supposedly within three days. The service rep said someone would call to set an appointment; she didn’t tell me that person was a contractor from another company until I asked. After three days, I’d heard nothing. After five days, still nothing.

On the seventh day, I got a message from Distinctive Windows. Since it was 8 P.M., I waited until the next morning to call back. A woman took my number. Johnny called back later in the day, when I was out at the grocery store. “Well, this is the number you left,” he said, “but I guess that’s not such a good number because you’re not there!” I called Johnny and informed him that one can have a functioning phone yet still have to leave the house occasionally. We scheduled an appointment for the next day.

An hour beforehand, another woman called from another number and said Johnny had to cancel. It was Thursday: She said he’d call back by the weekend. He didn’t. I called him Monday around noon. He said he was busy and would call back in a few hours. He didn’t. I called late afternoon—his voice mail said, “This is John—if you are a Home Depot customer, leave your name and number so I can provide you with excellent service.” Too late for that. I called Tuesday and left another message. Next day—his voice-mail box was full.