*names have been changed
Dear lord and lady where do I start with this? I'm not sure this post is going to be
#relatable unless you live in Catalunya and are an expert in dealing with the
tradesmen here.
Electrical sockets. A simple thing. However, the architects
and electricians here do not go through any form of training. They just give it
a whirl and hope for the best, which is evidently what happened when they built
our apartment. Unfortunately, this means that our sockets and lights and
various other electrical fittings frequently malfunction. For the latest disaster, we made the mistake
of enlisting 'outside help'.
Five weeks ago, a little man arrived (with zero tools) to
fix our sockets that didn't have any current and Mother's broken bathroom
mirror light. Mother and I both glanced at each other when *George waddled into
our house to "take a look". He "took a look" and then
returned to his van to bring his tool box up. It was more of a small first aid
box but there we go.
"You see? The lamp is broken, no light, look!"
Mother indicates to George to look at the broken light. He had already
established the situation but I translated anyway.
"Si. Ok."
I tell Mother that George is going to change the bulb.
"He'll break it. I bet. Look! There's no wa..."
Ah. George has smashed the bulb connections.
George sighs and blasphemes in Catalan.
I do not translate.
"WHOOOPS A DAISY, GEORGE! I TOLD YOU! We need a whole
new fitting!" Mother's input was, of course, valued in this sensitive
situation.
George tells me he must now remove the entire mirror. He
begins to lift the mirror (by himself)...
He bonks a corner of the mirror on the marble wall tiles and
it shatters.
This is going really well. I'm trying to stifle my giggles
whilst Mother is screaming internally.
"Oh!" Mother exclaims.
George is absolutely mortified. I can't bear to look. I'd
quite like to leave, to be honest.
"Well, what now? You can't leave that here like that,
it's DANGEROUS!" Mother, offering her help.
George apologises and explains he will have to go and buy a
new lamp and mirror and bring it back in a few days.
A tremendous huff comes from beside me;
"WHAT? OH NOOOOOOO, I CAN'T BE WITHOUT A MIRROR! AND
WITHOUT A LIGHT! LOOK AT THIS NOISE THE FAN MAKES WITHOUT THE LIGHT! LISTEN!
LOOK! LISTEN!"
I try to make the situation a little less uncomfortable by
not translating Mother's demands.
Anyway. Fast forward 5 weeks. Yes, that's right. 5 weeks.
The current day. I have aged. During the last 5 weeks there has been a
ridiculous amount of communication between Mother and George's employers
regarding how slow and useless tradesmen are. I might also add here that dear
old George arranged 3 visits within these 5 weeks that he simply did not turn
up to.
I receive a phone call this afternoon from George, telling
me he is half an hour away.
I see. Appointments are not in their brain capacity, it
would seem. I gently tell Mother;
"PARDON?! WHAT? What on earth is this chaotic mess?!
How do these morons operate? They cannot work like normal people, can they! As
if they just assume we will be at home! We have stayed home the previous 3
times and he didn't even arrive! LIBERTY! "
We stayed home to encounter George again.
He arrived with an accomplice. Just as useless, I'm afraid. They
also arrived empty handed.
It seemed to click when Mother stared at George, as he
swiftly (nervously) jumped back downstairs to collect the lamp. His accomplice
was left alone with Mother projecting God knows what at him (he does not speak
English, either).
George trots back with a lamp under his arm.
Before they connect it they spend 15 minutes figuring out
how to do it. That training day they didn't attend really would have come in
useful here. Mother suddenly says;
"What colour is it? It better not be some ghastly LED
light! Oh GOD what if it's not the same as the last one! I want a warm light not a horrendous blue light!"
I gently ask what colour it is and close my eyes as George
informs me it is, indeed, a cool blue LED light.
I translate this back to Mother.
"WHAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTT???!!!!!!!!"
Mother pulls her entire body a foot back and rearranges her
facial features as if she has just witnessed 12 humans vomit all over her
Chanel suit.
"EEEUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRGHHHHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"
I didn't feel the need to translate.
"You don't want?" Poor George is very confused,
after being pestered for 5 weeks to bring the damn lamp.
"NoooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo!!!!!!!!"
I grow concerned as Mother looks as though she might have a mental breakdown any
second.
Faces are just glancing at one another, trying to figure out
what's going on as Mother rapidly shakes her head and slaps her hands on her
face.
"urmmmmm....." I do not know what to say.
"THIS IS NO GOOD!
Oh for God's sake, I can't believe this! What do you mean, it's not the
same as the last one!? I want the same as BEFORE! Oh my GOD I just...... I can't have BLUE! It's awful!
It's cheap! Look at how cheap this is! I can't bear it, oh God no make it stop
turn it OFF TURN IT OFF!!"
George is looking at Mother as though he has murdered her
husband.
I shake my head apologetically and they start disassembling
the lamp...
Mother then demands the men to find the lamp she wanted, the
warm light. However, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum inform me that they can 'try'
but it could take weeks.
Ah, what a surprise.
Mother gives in;
"Oh for God's sake, just leave it there then. I'll just
have to not use it won't I! NEVER turn it on because I'll be blinded by that
horrific white glow! YUCK! If they take it away I won't have a lamp for the
next 12 years!"
Ever the exaggerator.
"Where is the new mirror?" Mother asks, as she sees the men trying to
fit it to the broken mirror.
Ah. Apparently they do not have one. There appears to be two
mirrors stuck to each other and only the top mirror is broken, so they want to
pull them apart and leave us with the mirror intact.
"IT WILL BREAK! IT WILL BREAKKKKK!!!!"
Mother is not wrong. I do not know anything about DIY but it
doesn't seem feasible to pull apart two mirrors that have been suspiciously
glued together without resulting in a giant shattered mess that will take them
five more weeks to clear up.
Conversations ensue as
Mother's level of annoyance increases and the level of awkwardness in
the room rises rapidly. The men are trying to convince us that it won't break.
They will "try" and if it does, they will bring a new one. When that
would be is under much questioning.
"Oh God. Darling, tell them! Tell them it will break!
Tell these men.... ask the men what the voltage of the lamp is! Tell them I AM
TRAINED in these things, I KNOW! Move them out of the way. Don't let them touch
that broken mirror! It WILL break and I will be without a mirror and a light
and oh GOD this is ..... just TELL THEM, darling, tell them what I'm
saying!"
This is very difficult to translate because, at the exact
same time, intellectual George decides
to give his lengthy speech in Spanish to me.
"So, yes or no to mirror?"
"what? WHATTT? I want a NEW MIRROR! Oh for God's sake!
Just leave it. Just leave it. Gracias. I suppose"
The men then proceed to wrap hideous black duct tape across
all the shattered and broken parts of the mirror. This is gorgeous, really sets
off the pearl marble wall. Lovely.
Mother glares at their work in disgust and then rolls her
eyes. She has given up trying to teach these men how to work.
I take the initiative to refuse further translation in the
hopes that it will get these morons out of our house a lot faster. Mother
continues to screech translation instructions to me as I nod and say some sort
of Spanish rubbish to the men to satisfy her.
Eventually they leave with their first aid box. Oh, and the
cat. Thank you very much Dumb and Dumber, you've left the front door wide open
and taken our cat with you.
So, here we are. The lamp replacement is about as good as no
lamp at all, since Mother refuses to switch it on. The mirror is worse than
before they came in the first place. This is the archetypical story of inviting
tradesmen into your home; they come to fix one thing and break another.
However, in Catalunya, they don't fix the first thing and end up breaking two
things.
We'll do it ourselves next time. DIY QUEENS DO NOT NEED A
MAN!
Thank you, next.
xoxo