Friday 27th January 2012
FITS most BS1010 & BS5412 Taps: which tells me nothing. Why not just call them hot and cold? And… most? I bet mine aren’t.
The Universal Tap Conversion Kit is also emblazoned with an enthusiastic banner, jauntily-angled and in fetching pink: NO PLUMBING SKILLS REQUIRED!
Alarmed almost to the point of walking out, selling up and moving abroad, I decide to come back tomorrow.
Meanwhile, news starts to filter through – in a drip-drip manner reminiscent of that sound from the kitchen sink I’ve endured these past three months – that the chief executive of the Royal Bank of Scotland is about to be given his annual bonus. I can’t wait.
Another problem is the packaging: everything sealed in moulded plastic, making it impossible to read the small print or feel what it would feel like. Then there’s the question of the two almost identical kits available. What if I need the VPB PR rather than the plain VPB? Do I pay the extra 90p, to be on the safe side?
In addition to his annual salary of £1.2 million, he will receive £963,000 in shares.
I gather it’s not uncommon for people to face similar dilemmas when shopping for shoes, with final decisions taken only after much humming and ha’ing. But at least you can try them on. Us plumbers don’t get that luxury.
We… sort of, as taxpayers… own 82% of this bank. According to the BBC, the treasury was afraid the chief executive and much of the board ‘would have quit, if the payment had been vetoed by the government as the majority shareholder’.
I turn off the stop-cock, dig out the adjustable spanner. Its familiar weight and grip send a ripple of forgotten masculinity through fore-arm muscle.
Wasn’t it Margaret Thatcher who wouldn’t let workers hold the country to ransom?
Later, I look it up in the Oxford Dictionary of Idioms. To plumb the depths: 1. reach the extremes of evil or unhappiness; 2. inquire into the most obscure or secret aspects of something.
Hmm. Both in one day. At least I’m no longer irritated by that drip in the sink.