Book, Cover, Judge!

This morning I visited a property in the south of the city to change the meter. I was firstly told in no uncertain terms by the gentlemen of the house that due to fact that the main room was used for prayer that I could not enter without removing my safety boots. Whilst I had no desire to offend I was also mindful of the companies ‘personal safety / Sorry Jonny boy you didn’t follow the rules, so you can laugh about this all the way to the job centre’ policy, and started to explain the nature of personal protective equipment (PPE) and the implications should I go all ‘Sandie Shaw’ whilst in touching distance of terra firma and 240 volts. This was of no concern to the gentleman, who I think blessed me and promptly left while I tried to sign the finer details of electrocution to his wife. (Please write in with suggestions of how to mime this) Anyway, the lady of the house seemed a little more practical and soon laid down a Ben 10 duvet cover on the first 6 foot of the floor only leaving me the problem of yogic flying the last 12 – 15 feet to the meter position of under the stairs. After a short while (immediately) I admitted defeat and stated that I would need to walk the last bit and was surprised that she accepted my pathetic excuses and turned a blind eye to my un-godly pedestrian ways. As I settled into my position of absolute power of the morning prayers that blasted out on the TV I mentioned that the electricity would need to be turned off. Once again I was quite surprised that the lady of the house was completely cool with this and I proceeded to pull the main fuse and all contacts with digital deities. Very soon, after all the kids had been despatched to school and I had finally fitted the new meter I turned it all back on and the lady of the house (who I am now thinking isn’t quite as religious as her spouse) switched immediately to Lorraine Kelly and her spring collection of wedding dresses and celebrity tat.


Lesson Learnt; Book, Cover, Judge, Never!