24 September 2006

Dear Dennis,
I would just like to type how reassuringly warm it was to speak with you again after so long, on the telephone the other day. I am pleased to hear you’ve not lost your sense of humour in the clamour for brownie points at the factory. I thank you for the parcel of qty 4xRJ45 inline connectors and assure you I’ve placed one of my rubber cheques in the post to you for a suitable amount which ought to cover at least some of the cost to your personal expenses, although as you know, I’m currently in dispute with my Barclays bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) and so I wouldn’t try cashing the cheque if I were you as you’ll be laughed out of your branch and ridiculed all the way down the street and back to your car. You’ll be barked at by stray dogs and scowled at by cats sunning themselves on garden walls. Old ladies may even approach you with tightly furled umbrellas and clear plastic, elasticated rain-hats. My cheque merely serves to indicate to you an amount of reparation I would be prepared to make, if the decision as to the amount was left up to me. I shall be making representation to my local newspaper regarding my Barclays bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) appalling attitude towards me (a once valued customer) who even “won” a popcorn maker for being such a promising young candidate when I took out the Barclays Bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) account at my University Fresher Fair, just a few short years ago). I was, a couple of days ago and still am, threatened and not a little haunted by their statement that if I didn’t pay them the money they wanted (I am just a couple of hundred of pounds overdrawn) they’d;

“pass your account to a debt collection agency and they’re not as polite as we are, (the boy paused on the phone for effect and then added) … sir”

and when I complained by letter, all they could say on the matter was (patronisingly) that they were;

“sorry to hear you were offended by one of our staff telling you that we are more polite than a collection agency might be”.

Clearly they’d twisted my words to suit themselves and were in no mood to reprimand their staff for anything. I suspect they probably gave him a bonus for thinking up such a thinly veiled line. I feel sad for the brunette as she used to work for the Barclays Bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) and had many, many good years of history with them – likewise though, as soon as she became a “student” again and they summarily changed her account to a “Student” account they now treat her like chaff as well. Well stuff ‘em, I’ll take my overdraft elsewhere. There, that’ll show them.

I was considering our conversation regarding my sophist neighbours and their latest campaign to “save the greyhound” with their banners [I am dying to entertain you]. Wouldn’t they be better to adjust their target and save the poor rabbit instead as you suggest. That poor creature gets chased ragged every night and for what? Well, I don’t know what but I’m sure my neighbours can find out for me. It is probably for an old cabbage stalk and half a carrot after it’s evenings work. Perhaps that is where their cage of rabbits came from … night time raids on greyhound tracks, rescuing exhausted, tailless rabbits. I’ve seen them on the telly – you can’t even see their legs moving or touching the ground they move that fast mate. I’ll try surreptitiously to examine their rabbits the next time I’m out in the garden. “Save the Rabbits” [I am exhausted and tailless for your entertainment] quite a catchy slogan if you ask me. I’ve noted your request for a photo of the neighbours and although at some risk to my personal health and livelihood if caught, I shall attempt to oblige.

I have been “aks’d” by our Burberry neighbours to fit a new bathroom tap set (sink + bath taps). You know the sort – laminate flooring nailed on top of uneven boards to give the impression of a modern Victorian Terrace leaving footsteps echoing for several seconds with each movement, massive telly filling the whole of the front room so they all have to watch through the hatchway from the dining room, kids all have PS2’s and telly’s in their rooms, four dustbins outside, all with different house numbers on and not a recycling bin among them, latest trainers and tracking suits, closely cropped hair, short-legged pug ugly muscle-dog with “diamonique studding in it’s collar (sex undetermined as no one has been able to get close enough yet) – salt of the earth bless ‘em. They also “aks’d” if I’d fit a new “power shower” for them but as I’ve seen their electrics - the guy has looped the electrics for their current shower out through and around the outside of their house as opposed to routing the cable under floorboards and up/down wall and the like and has strung the 6mm twin & earth up the wall on nails and then back into the house through an air-brick half way up his outside wall – I think I’ll pass on going anywhere near his electrics. He called me in one night last year as all their electrics had “gone orf whilst ‘avin a shower” – I went to examine his fuse box – he only had one fat 30 amp fuse wound up with several odd bits of wire, covering the whole house !! I removed it and prodded a replacement in with a long stick then left quickly as his lights slowly came up to heat and lit the house with an increasing glimmer. These people need protecting from themselves ! He is planning to sell his house soon and move – no one will ever get a full mortgage on it once a surveyor sees the electrics ! Still I suppose then it will be rewired and made safe at least. Seems daft though that mortgage companies are the only ones to police this sort of thing and it is generally only because of them that any work gets done properly and to within standards & regulations. They bought their boy an electric ride-in jeep last Christmas – massive thing it is – it was so big they couldn’t get it in through their front door ! Eventually, after loudly swearing at each other up and down the road, they knocked on several doors all the way down to a house with a side alley and got everyone to pass it over their fences until it reached them – they store it in their back garden (size of a postage stamp) – I hear the boy riding it sometimes – 5 yards forwards then 5 yards back again and all the time the dog trying to bite it’s wheels. He’s a sad kid, never knowing quite what to do with the presents they buy him and always trying to please his parents and thanking them so very much for the toys he doesn’t know quite what to do with – if only someone would buy him a box of soldiers or some colouring books and crayons or Lego. He struts up and down the street like Tony Blair and tries to spit just like his dad and only because it makes his mum and dad happy to see him – he’s only 5 … bless him.

Anyway the brunette has gone and got herself a new car – a red one – so I’ve been solemnly and ceremoniously handed the keys to the Escort – although she took them back today as she still needed to drive it around somewhere or other whilst I spent this morning tidying the house and making a futile attempt to coax the hoover into sucking up dirt, dust and small pieces of Lego. I have been made aware that I am expected to now deliver and collect Saul from crèche as well as deliver and collect Charlie from his school. I also must do the delivery and collection of Charlie on his swimming lesson days. I, on my part, have expressed an assumption that the brunette is going to hand over an amount of money each month, however this was met with a blank stare and a mutter.

Any way, thanks again – will you be forwarding any photos of your most recent holiday?
D