Everyday minutiae

I went out. Not very far, because I couldn't. "Gert Cottage Boulevard" was blocked. Not just to vehicular traffic but also to lil' ol' me.

I requested the crane be moved and was told by a man high in the sky that it would be ten or fifteen minutes. I expressed my anger that ten or fifteen minutes was well beyond the bounds of acceptability. I had an angry confrontation with a man on the ground who sneeringly and patronisingly informed me that ten or fifteen minutes is what it takes to move such a vehicle. I dare say that's correct, but I aver there is a bigger point being missed. I said I was calling the police because he was holding me prisoner against my will (Drama Queen? Moi?)

I discovered that in actual fact I could exit by crossing the site. Nice of Arsehole-on-the-Ground to have told me. I went into the site office and played merry hell, explaining that it was in no way an acceptable situation. If a fire engine or emergency ambulance were to come, ten or fifteen minutes simply was not good enough. I was told that fire engines don't come in fifteen minutes. Thankfully I don't know the accuracy of this, but the last time I had an emergency ambulance it had arrived in about five; there was a news story the other day criticising a situation where an ambulance took 18 minutes. Besides, sometimes when one requires an emergency vehicle, sometimes it isn't possible to go out and give prior notice to Anti-Social Neighbours.

I went to the doctors for a discussion about my CICA claim, and on my return I attempted to gain access again to the site office, only to find the way blocked by a a sort of trolley/ladder thing. Another builder lacking the standard quota of braincells suggested that I squeeze and crawl under the mini-scaffold. As if...I then remembered that there was another entrance so I crossed the site - without challenge - and entered the office block, where yet another arsehole said in 'mocking tones' "What now?" . Sharply I told him there was no 'what now' about it when his company were trapping me. I spoke to the Como site manager, Tony, who on a personal level is a pleasant and friendly man, but, as I have said before, it's warm words and bullshit.

It is total lack of consideration for them to imagine that having a lorry blocking pedestrian let alone vehicular access to my home all day is not something I should be informed of in advance. As I explained,  it's partly about emergency access, which needs no explaining as being of paramount importance, but actually it's also about the trivial: shopping, deliveries, visitors. It does not require any great effort to knock on the door and pre-warn us.

I also said I was very upset by the rudeness and attitude of people on site. I should have added that the Poles and Indians are with exception polite and courteous, the English, almost without exception are patronising and insulting. In a sense,  the sneering and contempt is almost worse than the physical and logistic inconvenience.

In between, I went to the doctor's surgery and spent a while in the waiting room. For some reason, I decided to peruse the leaflets and posters. Bad move! Some were potentially relevant, such as pain management for fibromyalgia, and Restless Leg Syndrome, but when you imagine yourself to have malaria, erectile dysfunction, teenage pregnancy and info on the PCT in Portuguese it's time to put the imagination to sleep.

And the worst  - "Anxious about having your womb examined?" Well, I wasn't before, but now I jolly well am...!

Comments

[your sister]

Even the crane has an 0870 no...!!!!

[Gert]

Indeed. Great, maybe I should rung that number at 8p a minute asking for it to be moved.

[Blue Witch]

While I totally 100% agree with you, past experience of doing exactly what you did and confronting the idiots has taught me, the hard way, that it's not a good idea. Watch out for consequent property damage...

[Gert]

I'm glad you've written that, BW. We've already got enough property damage as an inadvertent result that nobody has prepared to take responsibility for. We have photos of Jimmy's car streaked with dust, so one can only imagine what the house is like. And the way house shakes sometimes...I end up making jokes about the earth moving when I'm in bed, but it can't be doing the fabric of the house any good.