Plumb fool

Words cannot express how much I hate plumbers.

Someone will call between 8 and 9, they said. No-one did. Someone will be with you between 9 and 12 they said. 12.01, the plumber arrives.

"My boiler keeps locking out. It's making lots of clicking noises. I'm not a heating engineer, but if I was, I'd think it might be the ignition," said I, with a cheeky smile. "Can I get you a coffee?"

The plumber took all of my carrier bags out of my boiler cupboard. I have a lot of carrier bags.

"I can make it work again," said I, "by pressing the reset button. But after half an hour or so, it locks out again."

The plumber grunted. "Your boiler's not been fitted right. It's a hazard."

"Oh," said I. "But it's been like this since I moved in three years ago, and no other plumber has ever mentioned it. And - that as it may be - I'm sure it's got nothing to do with this new problem."

"It's a hazard," he said, "and I'll have to report it."

Five minutes later, my kitchen was covered with carrier bags. I really do have a lot of carrier bags.

"How are you getting on?" I asked.

"I've made it work," said the plumber.

"Did you just press the reset button?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Well, that's what I've been doing. It'll break down again soon."

"It's working now. I'm not going to take apart a boiler when I can't see a fault," said the plumber.

"But it wasn't working when you arrived; you can see there is a fault."

"Hmm," said the plumber. And then told me again how I needed the entire boiler re-plumbed in.

As his tedious monologue continued, the boiler - bless it - started making its clicking noises and promptly conked out. Hoorah!

"Hmm," said the plumber, clearly disappointed he'd actually have to do some work. "I can have a look at it now."

Ten minutes later: "It's your ignition."

I feigned surprise.

"Can you fix it?"

"Not now!" he said, with incredulity equal to if I'd suggested a quick bonk in the shower before he left. "Besides which, I'm going to have to recommend you get the whole thing replumbed before anyone does anything."

"Right," said I. "Apart from the replumbing, can you give me a rough idea of how much replacing the ignition will be?"

"Oh no," he said, "I don't do the numbers. The office will do the numbers. Sign here."

"But what happens next?" I asked.

"I don't know. How would I know the specifics of your insurance policy?" he asked me with a withering look.

Plumbers. Cunts. Fact.