It's not about the house.

Monday, August 6, 2007

... I've Come To Fix The Sink!

The phone just rang. Caler ID showed some woman's name I didn't recognize, Johnny was up the pub. I was going to let the machine pick up, but then I heard the back door open, which meant Johnny was home, so I answered it.


"Hello," a man said. "Could I speak to Erin, please?"

"This is."

"Oh. My name is -----. Mark D--- gave me your number. He said you need some plumbing done?"

Well I'll be dipped in shit and call me choc-o-pop, who the seven sisters is Mark D--?

"We do," I said, "but I don't know who Mark D-- is..."

"I don't know him very well myself." Okay well, that's a good sign I guess, that we were recommended to each other by somebody neither of us knows.

"Here," I went on, "why don't I let you speak to [here comes that magic word again] my husband."

Johnny doesn't know who Mark D-- is, either. But it turns out Plumber #9 doesn't want anything to do with us after all (Johnny saw #2 talking to him in the pub, so we suspect that either #2 told #9 that we were assholes, or else he said that this was his job and back off), so it can't hurt to talk to this guy, whoever the hell Mark D-- turns out to be.

So he's on his way over. Supposedly. Any minute now.

We'll see...

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