Plumbum in Extremis
I am in fear. Today I leave this city and return home to the Habitat. I'll get there about 7:30 tonight. The Flatmate has found a temp job. Which ordinarily would fill me with unbridled joy, but on this particular day I would prefer her at home...
The plumber commissioned by the demonic Flatmate from Hell has decided that he needs a particular part. A particularly rare and expensive part. A component of such recondite specificity that it must be ordered from a galaxy far far away. The cost of this widget has been estimated by our esteemed plumber at somewhere between the amount of money I've budgeted for my trip to Amsterdam, and the premium for my professional indemnity insurance for the next year.
I have spoken to the Plumber ("Andy" apparently), and he was full of all manner of vague assurances and guarantees. But was unable to tell me WHAT WAS FUCKING WRONG, or what PRECISELY it was that needed to be replaced.
He has also apparently forgotten the make and model of the hot water system. And so cannot order the part. And so either the Flatmate from Hell will have to do it when she gets home (this will undoubtedly involve the complete collapse of the entire top floor, a minor explosion, and the combustion of all my favourite suits), or I will do it.
Of course at 8pm all of the plumbing outfitters in the galaxy far far away will have shut their blast doors for the weekend, and so I will have to shower in freezing water for the foreseeable future.
Today's reason I hate my flatmate: This whole fiasco is somehow her fault. If she was predictably useless she could have dragged her lazy arse out of bed and told this piratical plumber what he needed. But no. She had to go and get a fucking temp job, for which she will not even earn enough to pay for 2 hours of plumber-time, thereby forcing me to shower in freezing fucking water for the rest of my natural weekend. Oh - and hiring the world's worst fucking rip-off merchant. I despair.
The plumber commissioned by the demonic Flatmate from Hell has decided that he needs a particular part. A particularly rare and expensive part. A component of such recondite specificity that it must be ordered from a galaxy far far away. The cost of this widget has been estimated by our esteemed plumber at somewhere between the amount of money I've budgeted for my trip to Amsterdam, and the premium for my professional indemnity insurance for the next year.
I have spoken to the Plumber ("Andy" apparently), and he was full of all manner of vague assurances and guarantees. But was unable to tell me WHAT WAS FUCKING WRONG, or what PRECISELY it was that needed to be replaced.
He has also apparently forgotten the make and model of the hot water system. And so cannot order the part. And so either the Flatmate from Hell will have to do it when she gets home (this will undoubtedly involve the complete collapse of the entire top floor, a minor explosion, and the combustion of all my favourite suits), or I will do it.
Of course at 8pm all of the plumbing outfitters in the galaxy far far away will have shut their blast doors for the weekend, and so I will have to shower in freezing water for the foreseeable future.
Today's reason I hate my flatmate: This whole fiasco is somehow her fault. If she was predictably useless she could have dragged her lazy arse out of bed and told this piratical plumber what he needed. But no. She had to go and get a fucking temp job, for which she will not even earn enough to pay for 2 hours of plumber-time, thereby forcing me to shower in freezing fucking water for the rest of my natural weekend. Oh - and hiring the world's worst fucking rip-off merchant. I despair.
posted at 13:37
8 Comments:
You complain in the introduction to your new flatmate that she's lost her job, and now you're complaining that she has a job? Come on, you can't have it both ways.
Oh, and by the way, as you're her landlord, it's you who should be responsible for items such as the boiler. I bet you don't even have a proper contract for her, do you?
Why don't you just go to the gym or swimming or something like that? It's good for you AND you get to shower in unlimited hot water!
I think this plumber is screwing you. You should get a second opinion. Plus it might just be cheaper to get a new water heater or a new whatever. Look into something else. That sounds ridiculous.
Are you the same person? I think this blog has been taken over by someone else. It's definately lost it's edge.
Well, welcome back!!! Are we to expect more laughs?
You're not the same person, are you?
I think this is someone else. The old person was a)gender unspecific, b)not a hypocrite and c) didn't ever give out specific details like names. Ironic that you were in a 'data protection' meeting.
I had really fithy flatmates in Barcelona. I was really desperate but I used the experience to make this short film:
http://es.youtube.com/watch?v=eQCEtiyUxgk&mode=related&search=
I hope you like it
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