Not my argument.
A simple oven failure. A blown element.
All I said to the couple was "I'll fix it now if you go and fetch the part"
I then spent ages explaining where the shop was that sold the part. Both of them looked blank until I said it was next to the Sex Shop. Then she said "Oh, I know where that is".
Then argument started.
They still have no working oven.
Why did you not go fetch the part and charge for the service?
Or not fix an oven. Did they break the over while having sex then?
Brian
Maybe he is banned from anywhere near the sex shop?
grin
Brian
I have heard rumours that Adam is a member of a club called Ramrods. Perhaps I should not have posted that ...
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Do people not understand addresses nowadays?
"Pop down to the plumbers, 46 Barber Road" "Where's that?" "Barber Road, number 46."
JGH
It's her oven not his. I have no idea how she broke it. He has never used it.
No, they have no idea.
Everyone tells you how to get there. I just put the phone down on them when they start doing that. If I want info on a address I ask.
I know where the Friend's Meeting House is. That doesn't mean I've ever been inside.
Colin Bignell
Why, when I search for sex shop barnsley, does Google give me Janco toys and The RSPB in the results?
Owain
or like the old quote from Rising Damp - Philip to Alan;
"But you know where the erroneous zones are!",
"Yeah, well I know where the Himalayas are as well, but it doesn't mean I have ever been up them!"
The argument started when he asked her "How do you know where it is?" and she replied "I've been in it"
B&Q have taken over Google?
When someone wants an inspection, they'll tell me how to get there, and how to recognise it. Problem is, our database and my sat-nav don't recognise "just after the roundabout, the red door next to the mosque" as a valid address.
And I always assumed that you lads had plans of the job in question and that there would be an address on those plans:-)
forgotten what sex is.
Owain
Ho ho! Nice one! Around here, plans are what the builders use to wipe their arse on when they take a shit in the corner of next door's garden.
To even get the plans, you first have to give the right address to look them up.
Vogons!
Or at least, AN address: Voicemail message - "I'm doing that job in Mumbletown, we're ready for the drains this afternoon." Never mind that I have at least twenty jobs on the go in Mumbletown, and that the job may not actually be IN Mumbletown, but in Thingyplace. To the person ringing up of course, THEY only have one job in the Mumbletown area; next week they'll be in Stupidshire for three months!
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