"The drain's positioned so the washing machine and the toilet are going to collide. The machine door won't be able to open. I'd recommend shifting it back about four inches."
The site supervisor was a guy named Ken Lawrence, a stubborn old bulldog of a man who made no effort to hide his annoyance with me.
"That's how it was designed. Whether the door opens or not isn't my problem. I build to the blueprints."
I smiled. "But the interior finishing is on your team. A layout like this is going to cause major problems during renovation. Unless you swap the front-loader for a top-loader, but would the homeowners agree to that? Wouldn't that count as fraud?"
He checked the blueprints, measured the dimensions over and over again.
Then he looked up the washing machine specs, and went completely silent.
After a long pause, he finally asked me.
"How do you know all this so well?"
I didn't bother hiding my calculating smile.
"Because I want this project. I know the exact deviation of every single unit you've got here."
He studied me for a moment, something shifting behind his eyes.
"Kid, you've got grit. Reminds me of myself when I was your age."