Oh, wow! So many replies, I haven’t even skimmed them yet. Let me update you all on what has been happening.
I told hubby about the possibility suggested by (damn, I forgot, sorry) the guy who suggested we get the contractor to take down the new door, install a new but simpler/cheaper one in white. The cost of the new-new door, and the labor involved in the entire sequence is NOT to be our problem. We had a basic working garage door to begin with, we’d have the same at the end, and we should not pay anything towards the labor since we had absolutely zip to do with causing the mistake to happen. Hubby is fine with this idea, if the contractor goes along.
Then contractor is to go across the street, remove the old garage door there and install the one that spent a few days at our place, giving neighbor what he contracted for, if a few days belated.
Contractor is out the cost of a cheaper door than at present plus his efforts and what he pays his helpers. Which hurts, but not as much as giving us a ritzy door plus maybe painting it AND buying/installing a ritzy door for the neighbor.
Hubby called contractor and asked questions. Like, Can the new door be easily painted? (Answer seems be to be no, the door is made from some sort of miracle stuff that isn’t supposed to weather but tends to shed ordinary paint.) Can the door be uninstalled from our garage and reinstalled in the neighbors without it being damaged or disvalued in some way? (Yes, so long as the workers take care. Apparently all the connections are done with bolts, and can be unscrewed and rescrewed fine, unless they’ve been in place for years and years and years, enough for rust and corrosion and wear or such to happen. Any connector bit that looks bent or such would simply be discarded and replaced with a new one, at trivial expense, It’s the door panels that are costly.)
Contractor still insisted that part of the blame falls on the neighbor for causing or not noticing the address error.
Hubby and I talked to the neighbors last night, and explained all the above. The neighbor is sorta ‘hmmmm.’ He has some worries about the install/uninstall/reinstall sequence might cause some hidden damage that would cause the door to fail too quickly. He’s still sure he gave his address correctly, but admits to not having spotted the error on the purchase agreement.
Basically, everyone seems to be acting like civilized people at the moment. And from our angle in particular, the neighbor explicitly said he knows none of this is our fault, and so did the contractor, who seems a bit sheepish. No definite agreement yet, but I think it’s clear he accepts the idea of replacing our garage door with a basic model and agreeing that that will be the end of it as far as we go. (Whew!) Though he still wants some more money from the neighbor for their ‘share’ in the mistake, but that will be between them.
We haven’t mentioned it to anyone yet, but hubby thinks that maybe the contractor could extend whatever term the garage door is warranteed for to offset the neighbor’s concerns, and the neighbor could pay something – maybe a chunk of the labor cost of the in/out/in of our garage door – for his failure to catch the mistake.
I dunno, but so far at least everyone is just talking, no yelling, no threats, no lawyers, no cops, so I think that’s good.
BTW, as I said, nothing is in writing yet, but the contractor gave us a brochure about the various door options and costs. I think what we want is just about the cheapest possible, because I do think I want some windows in the door. I do projects out there with the door closed in bad weather, and I’d hate to lose the potential natural light. Otherwise, no insulation needed, plain old white steel instead of designer tinted wonder stuff, ordinary rollup garage looking door vs. 'this is a converted coach house from when we were a mansion". If I’m reading stuff correctly, the door I’d pick is about $550, the ones the neighbors chose something close to $2000. (Just for the door.) I’d think that price difference is enough to sweeten the contractor’s mood quite a bit, don’t you?