Had a bit of a mix-up with plumbers this morning. At 9:00, I opened the door to a plumber and greeted him with, “Hello,Craig?”. He acknowledged me and then followed me through to the utility room, examined and cut the plastic pipe and then went off to get some parts he needed. About half an hour later there was a knock at the door. I opened it and there was a different bloke there, who I assumed was the plumber’s mate.
“Are you with Craig?” I asked.
“Yes” was his answer.
He walked through to the utility room.
“Ah, you’ve made a start then.” he said.
“No. Craig did it.”
“I am Craig.”
The penny dropped. The first plumber I had spoken to had not picked up my subsequent message last night to cancel and had come round and made a start. Craig told me that it looked like the other guy was doing the job just fine and left me to it. No call out charge, so that was fine and he seemed genuinely okay with it.
Just after he’d gone I phoned back the first plumber to see where he was. He said that he’d gone to Coventry, as all the plumbing suppliers around Nuneaton were closed, but he’d got the bits he needed and was well on the way back. I explained what had happened and said that I would rather Craig did the job, as he had committed to 11:00. He was fine about that and said that he would pick up the pipe cutter and dush sheet he’d left at my house when next in the area, so I phoned back Craig and asked him to come back. He said fine and then phoned back at 10:40 to say that all the usual suppliers were closed. At that point, I’d had enough of the situation and told him that we’ll leave it until the 27th when we get back from Grimsby.
Left as planned at 11:00 and took it easy on the drive up to Grimsby. We went the motorway route rather than the usual A46 route, as we took our cat, Paddy, with us and he always throws up on the A46, but was fine the last time we went the motorway route. We arrived in Grimsby at around 13:30 and after a quick coffee, headed off to see the pantomime Aladdin at the multiplex cinema in Cleethorpes. Seems like a good idea using a cinema for live shows.
Joyce (the Mother-in-Law) had managed to get front row seats, so I was expecting some kind of abuse from the performers. Sure enough, the guy playing Wishy Washy came off stage and called out “Here, Mum! Call the police! Someone’s stolen this man’s hair!” whilst giving me a few Benny Hill-esque slaps on the head. Wanker.
I was subsequently squirted with water by the same bloke and resolved to give him a good kicking if he did anything else. Fortunately, he turned his attention to other victims. In the end, it was a good show. At the end they invited a couple of quite clearly cherry-picked kids onto the stage, asking for a coople of volunteers. Philippa wasn’t having any of it and made her own way across the stage confidently to gate crash the party. It was very funny really, because they had to quickly put together another goody bag for her.
Had enough of water today!