Friday, 20 November 2015
Why I hate window cleaners
Picture the scene.Actually, better not. Because I was stark naked in the shower, and this bit of ladder and a head appeared at the window. I kept very, very still, and waited for the head to go, hoping it hadn't notived me (we have a flmsy blind which is rather see-through). When I went next door to the bedroom to dress, the head was there again. It was all too much. I'm still trying to recover (so, I suspect, is the window cleaner. But then I suppose for him, it'sall part of the job).
Afterwards, I asked very nicely if next time, please could he and his band of colleagues knock on the door when they arrive, to let us know they're there.
"No time," quoth he. No time, that is, to knock on all the doors. But he said he'd make an exception for us.
So watch this space (so long as that's all you watch).