Monday, October 14, 2013

Thanks for nothing British Gas!!


I can’t blog in the study. It’s too cold. We returned back from DR to find the boiler had packed in. No central heating and No hot water. ‘No problem’ said the nice British Gas Salesman, installation would begin on Tuesday & hot everything would return to normal by Wednesday. I could wait a week.

But that was last Wednesday.

You know when you get the call on your mobile and it’s a number you don’t recognise. Screw this, I know it’s going to be a recorded message alerting me to a potential windfall for claiming against PPI insurance I would never have been stupid enough to take out, but, hell I’m lonely, so I take the call.

 
 



'Oh hello Mr Cobbs’ (Close enough)’Dave from British Gas here. We’ve got a bit of a problem….’

 
You're NOT looking after mine!!!
 
Whilst hell freezes over, we remain all cooped up in the front room. I feel proper working class, sharing the room with the clothes horse, gas fire blaring. But it’s in my bones now and once it’s in, you can’t shake it off. Even the dog’s shivering!

To add insult to injury, you get the British Gas adverts showing these puppet like characters coming to the rescue. Don’t you believe it! They’re encapsulating a three week timeframe within a one minute window. If you have a leak, you’ll drown before they turn up.

Rick Steins cooking a curry. He’s a bit camp isn’t he?
 



Twins?

Every cloud has a silver lining and in search of a hot shower I’m having to go to the gym most nights. This suits me as I am running the Luton Half marathon a week Sunday. A little too much Cerveza and not enough exercise in DR have left me feeling inadequately prepared. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll get round, but it’s a bit of an narcissistic fear that because it’s my home town where more people know me, they might, just might check my time. Nobody gives a fig if I run Hitchin, Bedford, Stevenage, Watford blah blah, I’ve done them all, but Luton, this is different. There might even be people there! Just out shopping who stop and stare and say to each other ‘wasn’t that jonny cobb? I thought he was meant to be quite fast?’

 

We’ve got a new bloke in our office. He’s a great guy. Nice manner, his clients love him and he’s very relaxed, but he obviously doesn’t care what people think of him if you look at his clothes. Today he turned up in a jumper Noel Edmunds would have been proud of back in his Swap Shop days.

 

I sort of wish I didn’t have these silly vain insecurities. I wonder if I’m the only one? But do I really think people won’t like me if I have poor dress sense (perhaps I do??) or if I’m pretty crap at running? I’m pretty certain that I’m not alone in this irrational thought process, but I guess it’s a testament to the rather superficial world we live in.

I particularly feel for our kids. I don’t think we appreciate the pressure they’re under to look cool. Wearing the wrong trainers could potentially lead to ostracization ! It’s one of the aspects which I love about meeting the kids in DR. They have an innocent joy because they don’t know what they are missing. That’s why I get narked at organisations which put internet and computers in these villages. What do all the kids go on? ‘Teach yerself English?’ Nope, Facebook!!

They have tough lives, they are often hungry, and yet there’s little other pressures and so, I repeat, there’s a kind of contentment which our kids don’t share. But slowly, by showing them what they can possibly never achieve (bling, cars, women etc) we are even eroding that.

As if to back up my point, Rick Stein is in some dodgy part of India and he’s just said the same thing! (sort of..)

Talking of DR, here’s a great link to a view of the Esperanza football pitch. Some of you may have been out there and got the bruises!


And finally, last year, some of us helped build Kitchen extensions in Ascention. They’re still standing!! Here’s the proof!

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