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joseph_corlett

Dear Travertine

Dear Travertine:

I know our relationship has been rocky. You've been the way you are for billions of years so I doubt you'll change for me anytime soon and you couldn't if you wanted to. They keep making you do the things for which you are not suited, that happens to the beautiful ones, and I keep trying to make things right.

Before I go any further, I need to apologize for those things I said about you and your metamorphic cousin, Marble. Oh, I told no lies, but doesn't everyone already know about the scratching, etching, and staining inherent to your types? Forgive me for bringing up my exes again, but what do you expect from a guy with a solid surface and engineered stone background? I'm not making excuses; I'm just trying to understand my own behavior. When they ask me about you, I'm obligated to tell the truth. I can certainly be more discreet.

With that said, and since this is just between us, this is what you looked like the other morning:

I'm not saying this to hurt your feelings, but when the customer first telephoned me she called you "concrete"! She got you with the house and just didn't know. Later a girlfriend told her you were engineered stone, so when I arrived you can understand my trepidation. I was gentle with you behind the refrigerator panel and you responded enthusiastically the more aggressive I became. I spent nearly two hours with my Festool in that 14 square foot corner, but kept your dust down and finally got you to pop with the MB 12 on a white pad and just in time too. Ms. Homeowner came home and I called her over. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, "It's beautiful!" I never tire of hearing that. You and me babe; we did it.

I hate the way you make me trade between effective dust collection and time, which is money. I'm never going to get your worst etches out with the Festool. I've got to get even more aggressive so I run my Viper 3-step pads on my knuckle-dragger (Makita polisher) without dust collection. The huge range hood is sucking up all the dust and I've cut our time together by a third at least. Even that wasn't enough for the left side of the sink. You needed a 70 grit even before the Vipers. You do like it rough:

Then there's your drinking. One little splash next to the sink and you sucked it down like a floozy in a sailor's bar:

Fortunately you were just as thirsty for the Tenax Proseal I covered your tops and edges with after polishing. And while I know my stone restoration peers will flip if they ever find out, your behavior improves markedly with a coat of clear paste wax. A little more Proseal as a chaser to remove the excess wax and I finally had you sated, judging by the water beads on the bar. You could probably even turn away some orange juice or red wine now, but I didn't want to push it. Yes, your worst etch, the one in the first picture, has disappeared:

I'm sorry I didn't have the time to pretty up your previously repaired blowouts; maybe next time. Ms. Homeowner never said anything about them. I'm not being cruel because I know they're your nature, but they really didn't show up until after polishing. This is the bar; lucky for you I didn't photograph the cooktop edge. Let's keep that blowout our little secret, 'nkay?

Speaking of cooktops, it looks like the cleaning people let go of a slippery burner to the tune of $1,200.00. That's what I should have charged for your makeover. I digress, but I'm glad I didn't get the blame for this:

Where is our relationship going, Travertine? They can't resist your beauty, no matter how educated they become. When we invent technical solutions to your shortcomings, they accuse you of "looking like plastic". They can't have it both ways so I say let 'em pay. Do I appear as a whore to them or am I a pimp for you? Or both? Or neither? It doesn't really matter. As long as they pay me, I'll keep you looking good and performing well and we'll all keep struggling along.

All my love,

Joseph

P.S.:

This post was edited by Trebruchet on Mon, Oct 13, 14 at 11:55

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