Was just about to turn on a new boiler I installed a while ago.
(cue slow motion scene of hand moving towards the power button).
When I hear the Sparky downstairs shouting:
"NO NO, GAS, F*****G GAS, STOP, F*****G GAS"
I jump off the ladder and sprint down two flights of stairs (not a bad effort considering my heavily infected and in growing toe).
The builder is there holding an 1” barrel gas service pipe which he has just ripped out of the concrete floor. Gas is p1ssing out blowing dust and plaster everywhere. The Sparks and I went sprinting down the hallway outside – I shout "that’s it" as I point to the street service cock cover plate as the Sparks tries ripping it up with his bare hands – I jump clean over him and sprint to the van to get my long stop cock key. We use that to prise open the cover plate and manage to turn off the service cock.
We got back into the house and numbnuts is stood there holding this piece of pipe with a bemused look on his face saying:
“but she told me that zis pipes is come out”.
Not impressed we called National Grid. Sparks has to go home. The poor sod had his first epileptic fit last week and lost his driving license – the doctors told him to avoid stressful situations!!!!
4 lads from NG roll up just under an hour later – worryingly unsurprised about what happened, except that we managed to get the gas off ourselves.
Its amazing what can happen when you have the brown afterburner kicking in!
Bosnian Bill there goes:
“I thinks it vas good we no use cutter no?”
Well no phecking **** you plank – I told you yesterday that it was live and that the one next to it was for the kitchen!
2 hours later NG are digging up the pavement ‘cos I managed to persuade him to snatch a cap over the service pipe before the service cock to get rid of the connection – he originally wanted to dig up the whole front garden and leave a stump in a new meter box on the front of the house – costing easily a grand or more. For some reason there was two service pipes form the street dating back from when the house had been split into two council flats. NG couldn’t say why, but did say that the bill would have been enormous if it was a single service pipe as they would obviously have to run a fresh pipe in form the street.
The poor customers get home from work to see a whopping great big hole being dug outside their house; no builders in site, and flashing yellow lights everywhere.
That’s the EU for you. I used to be fairly pragmatic about the influx of Poles et al – but I have been to too many abortions recently and it’s starting to get me down. This job was going to be done by my regular builder – but he refused to start until the party wall agreements were in place – customer couldn’t wait that long so cut a few corners.
They’ve also knocked out a chimney breast – and I can reach through to next door’s flue liner. Nice!
(cue slow motion scene of hand moving towards the power button).
When I hear the Sparky downstairs shouting:
"NO NO, GAS, F*****G GAS, STOP, F*****G GAS"
I jump off the ladder and sprint down two flights of stairs (not a bad effort considering my heavily infected and in growing toe).
The builder is there holding an 1” barrel gas service pipe which he has just ripped out of the concrete floor. Gas is p1ssing out blowing dust and plaster everywhere. The Sparks and I went sprinting down the hallway outside – I shout "that’s it" as I point to the street service cock cover plate as the Sparks tries ripping it up with his bare hands – I jump clean over him and sprint to the van to get my long stop cock key. We use that to prise open the cover plate and manage to turn off the service cock.
We got back into the house and numbnuts is stood there holding this piece of pipe with a bemused look on his face saying:
“but she told me that zis pipes is come out”.
Not impressed we called National Grid. Sparks has to go home. The poor sod had his first epileptic fit last week and lost his driving license – the doctors told him to avoid stressful situations!!!!
4 lads from NG roll up just under an hour later – worryingly unsurprised about what happened, except that we managed to get the gas off ourselves.
Its amazing what can happen when you have the brown afterburner kicking in!
Bosnian Bill there goes:
“I thinks it vas good we no use cutter no?”
Well no phecking **** you plank – I told you yesterday that it was live and that the one next to it was for the kitchen!
2 hours later NG are digging up the pavement ‘cos I managed to persuade him to snatch a cap over the service pipe before the service cock to get rid of the connection – he originally wanted to dig up the whole front garden and leave a stump in a new meter box on the front of the house – costing easily a grand or more. For some reason there was two service pipes form the street dating back from when the house had been split into two council flats. NG couldn’t say why, but did say that the bill would have been enormous if it was a single service pipe as they would obviously have to run a fresh pipe in form the street.
The poor customers get home from work to see a whopping great big hole being dug outside their house; no builders in site, and flashing yellow lights everywhere.
That’s the EU for you. I used to be fairly pragmatic about the influx of Poles et al – but I have been to too many abortions recently and it’s starting to get me down. This job was going to be done by my regular builder – but he refused to start until the party wall agreements were in place – customer couldn’t wait that long so cut a few corners.
They’ve also knocked out a chimney breast – and I can reach through to next door’s flue liner. Nice!
