Dude, Where's My Door?

My front door is nice and all, but sometimes it is frustrating in that it falls short in certain areas. Such as functioning as a front door. It's rotting and doesn't quite fit in the frame anymore. There's a gap at the bottom that lets leaves and bugs blow in, which no matter how often I vacuum makes me look like a slob. I think a nice hard kick would easily break it open. Even a soft kick. A gentle breeze, perhaps.

Well, as I mentioned I am renovating, and this clearly needs to be addressed sooner rather than later. For the last month I have searched and searched for a door. And searched and searched. And then I searched some more.

And just when I think that maybe this is it, maybe I will actually really truly get to buy me a door, something happens to foil me. I can't believe it. People, I am here. I have money I want to spend. Lots and lots of money. Please, somebody, take my money.

Home Depot doesn't care. Lowe's doesn't care. And...um...I don't know of any other place to buy a door that doesn't cost $10,000. But if I did, I'm sure they wouldn't care either. It's like pulling teeth to get anyone to so much as call me back.

I don't get what the problem is. My door is a fairly standard 30" wide, 80" tall. I would like fiberglass, as obviously the wood is bad in that it rots and steel is bad in that it looks cheap. And I would like it stained a lovely, rich, dark reddish-brown color. Is that asking so much? IS IT????? Apparently.

I finally thought I had found it at Lowe's, where a guy named Fred took my sheet of paper with the measurements on it and worked up the perfect door for me. It kind of looks like this, except in the mahogany stain. Fred was a little bit weird. He greeted me by asking, "Am I bleeding?" Err...nooooo. "Really? Because my head was bleeding earlier. A lot. It still feels weird. I don't remember how it happened." Um. "But I can't tell customers about that because it would freak them out." Uh-huh. I'm a customer. But I didn't say that to him and instead offered my bland sympathies. Since I'm really desperate to give somebody somewhere LOTS OF MONEY.

So Lowe's sent out their measuring guy, and I told Fred I would buy the door and was all set to stop by and sign the contract. Then Fred calls and tells me that the door I chose did not come in my size. The door we worked up was based on incorrect measurements.

I was really ticked about having measured improperly...until I looked at the sheet of measurements I had given Fred. They were right. He's the one who messed it up when he was inputting the info into the computer. I guess an unexplained head wound will do that to you.