Plumbers: a closed shop?

Posted on August 20, 2006
Filed Under architecture, chancers, characters, DIY, family, pub, Rant, weekend | 1 Comment

I visited de bruther yesterday to see how he was getting on with the extension he’s building/paying for. He’s hired a local builder to manage the whole process and, all in all, it’s gone very well. The building is now weather-tight and they’re making great progress on the inside of the house. Sadly, things have started to slip behind schedule recently and it’s totally due to the plumber.

The plumber has disappeared for a couple of weeks and pretty much everything has ground to a halt until he returns and finishes his work. I suggested that my brother sack the plumber and get a new one in to finish the job. He said that no other plumber would come on site and interfere in another plumber’s work. If he wanted to use another plumber, he’d have to go outside the area and hire a ‘stranger’. I was incredulous that such a situation could exist in today’s Ireland. But, apparently it’s the done thing for a plumber, or any tradesman, to come on site and do a days work immediately. It’s a bit like a dog pissing on a tree: it’s a way for the plumber to stamp his mark on the project. Then, after that, it’s pretty much up to himself if and when he comes to work. This plumber is certainly a mongrel pup.

The builder is pretty annoyed, or so he says, at his sub-contractor’s performance but I’m not sure if it’s an act to placate my brother and his wife. Has anyone else had this sort of experience and what did you do to (a) get your point across and (b) get the plumbing work done?

Whilst visiting him, I tried to help him install the extractor-fan-thingy over the hob. During the first hour, we didn’t make much progress. The photo on the left is the prosecution’s evidience. Well, we did make progress, only it wasn’t the right type! Looking at our handiwork, we contemplated filling the gap with paper mache and spray paint, and other useless fix-it’s. We also remembered how everyone thought the Leaning Tower of Pisa was now a good idea. Unfortunately, his wife came home at that stage and hollered a little bit. Actually, she hollered a lot but there were no tears, thankfully.

Shortly afterwards, she left, with her rice-crispy chocolate buns, to go to a two year old child’s birthday party. I didn’t know two year olds had ‘proper’ birthday parties but what do I know? I was told that the 4 year old sister had a party so it was only fair for the two year old to have one as well. Oh yeah, the potential jealousy issues could really cause lasting, life-long psychological damage to the child/baby. Anyway, we got back to work and tried to finish the job quickly. Speed was of the essence because we knew she was likely to be gone for the afternoon. There was a bouncy castle at the party, after all! And, we knew if we finished quickly enough, we could go to the pub for an illicit beer!! We men have such simple minds, don’t we! Anyway, we finally got it finished (see photo 2 for the defence’s evidence, m’lord). Let’s just say that it would be a really, really good idea if nobody ever slams a door in the house again, ever. I’ll plead ‘The Fifth‘ and say no more.

The pint wasn’t as enjoyable as I’d hoped. I don’t know whether it was the ‘immense‘ physical labour or whether it was a full moon, but it wasn’t great. The final straw was when I say a lady walking her dog past the pub. The dog was one of those tiny dogs whose name nobody ever remembers. Let’s just say it was one of those furry ball dogs that you could probably use in a tennis game if you ran out of balls. What was remarkable was that, in her other hand, the lady was carrying a dead pheasant. I kid you not, I genuinely think she was carrying a dead pheasant, with a paper bag over it’s head, as she walked along the road with her dog. And there is no way this little fur ball caught it. I really wish I had my camera with me but it was a bit disgusting. As the saying goes, I made my excuses and left.

And, so, if you’ll excu

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