Way back last November I had a problem with the fan in my en-suite shower room. It had an intermittent short, and was turning itself on and off at random. My regular electrician was able to come out at short notice, diagnose the fault and disconnect the unit from the mains. Water had got into the electronics, and the fan unit needed to be completely replaced, but of course that’s not the sort of spare he carries around in his van. We agreed that he’d come back “before Christmas” to fit the replacement, and that I wouldn’t pay him until then.
Christmas came and went. The electrician was too busy to squeeze me in, I was too busy at work to chase him, and probably wouldn’t have been able to take a day off anyway. But when I got back home after my Christmas holiday, the lack of a functioning fan really started to bother me. I phoned the electrician’s number, and had a chat with his wife. She promised to nag him to phone me back and arrange a date to fix it. When nothing happened for a further few days, I started to wonder whether he actually wanted the job – it involves crawling around by torchlight in a very awkward tight space in my loft, avoiding the mouse poison and possible mouse corpses. However, I misjudged him – not only did he call me back, but he’d already bought the replacement fan unit. Today was the first day that we both could make, so I took the day off work.
We’d set the date several weeks ago, and agreed a “nine o’clock-ish” start. So when it got to nearly ten o’clock and there was still no sign of him, I was getting worried that he’d forgotten and I’d wasted a day’s leave. I should have had more faith! In my experience to date, he’s always turned up on the day agreed, but always at least an hour later than he said. The same was true today. He did eventually arrive, and spent a couple of hours up in the loft replacing the fan. It seems to be working fine now, so that’s one thing I can cross off my to-do list.
