Freezing my crudgits off.
Sometime in the summer the gas board managed to find the gas metre, which was in a small brick building marked GAS METRE right outside and to the left of the main door of the company I work for.
They have been trying to take a reading for six years as far as I know, on this occasion they managed this awesome task only because the gas guy driving the van backed into it, which required him to write out a damage report. Even then he would have missed it if it hadn’t been for the badly briefed employee who as the guy started to drive away shouted "What about our gas cupboard, who is going to pay for that".
In any event the game was up and as a result the metre was disconnected because the company refused to pay the seven thousand-pound bill they presented us with. Consequently we now have no heating in the building and whilst that isn’t a problem in the summer I can assure you it’s a bleeding inconvenience in the winter. Everybody is walking around dressed like world war two trench soldiers on the Russian front. Its warmer outside than inside, and even people who don’t smoke are going out for a fag.
One good thing to come out of it was that we didn’t have to put any decorations up this Christmas, there was so much frost and so many icicles on everything that it looked like Santa’s grotto.
The main office has three electric heaters banging away, so its not too bad for them, however I just have the one heater in my office, and it can only be turned up half way or it packs up. I dread anybody walking in and steeling my heat, talk about Bob Cratchet.
I just hope the electric board don’t find the electric metre, I can’t see it actually, that’s inside and as we treat all visitors as bailiffs we are probably ok for another year or two.
They have been trying to take a reading for six years as far as I know, on this occasion they managed this awesome task only because the gas guy driving the van backed into it, which required him to write out a damage report. Even then he would have missed it if it hadn’t been for the badly briefed employee who as the guy started to drive away shouted "What about our gas cupboard, who is going to pay for that".
In any event the game was up and as a result the metre was disconnected because the company refused to pay the seven thousand-pound bill they presented us with. Consequently we now have no heating in the building and whilst that isn’t a problem in the summer I can assure you it’s a bleeding inconvenience in the winter. Everybody is walking around dressed like world war two trench soldiers on the Russian front. Its warmer outside than inside, and even people who don’t smoke are going out for a fag.
One good thing to come out of it was that we didn’t have to put any decorations up this Christmas, there was so much frost and so many icicles on everything that it looked like Santa’s grotto.
The main office has three electric heaters banging away, so its not too bad for them, however I just have the one heater in my office, and it can only be turned up half way or it packs up. I dread anybody walking in and steeling my heat, talk about Bob Cratchet.
I just hope the electric board don’t find the electric metre, I can’t see it actually, that’s inside and as we treat all visitors as bailiffs we are probably ok for another year or two.
posted by Dave G at 7:06 pm
3 Comments:
What a terrible story!
But at least I now know what a crudgit is!
Well atleast it's less carbon emissions!
Just out of interest... Since you're from Manchester. Red or Blue?
Kaz A term used by early Mancs to confuse the Romans.
Jingoistic I lost intersest in football in the early 70s when more important human games caught my eye, however I used to be a red and will never forget the grace of George Best.
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