So, I'm sitting here, in my dressing gown (yes, it is 1.30pm but I am still not feeling quite right and I am working at home, so who gives a damn?)...
I hear a rattle of keys at the front door and make a noise, thinking that someone maybe had the wrong flat, or was going to the neighbour's place, and heard: "Mell, Mell, it's [insert name] here from Estate Wankers."
Conversation through a closed door:
Me: What are you doing here?
Estate Wanker (EW): Nick left a message yesterday.
Me: I am off sick, I didn't get a message.
EW: But he called.
Me: I didn't get a message. It is not convenient now.
EW: So, we can't come in?
Me: As I said I am off sick, no appointment was made, I expect a call when someone is coming round. Will you check it with Nick?
EW: Yes, I'll go back to the office and check it.
Me: Good.
Then I called up the office and complained to the manager about the EW feeling perfectly free and easy as far as entering my property is concerned. How fucking difficult is it to pick up the phone to ask whether it is convenient?
I do not like being lied to about such things. Am furious. Suppose I was in the middle of an important interview, in the bath, or walking around with my pants on my head?
Bastards.
Which reminds me, I had a call from a different estate cretin earlier this week. She congratulated me on my 'pregnancy' on the basis of me and S looking at a few properties in the area. The idiot called me up at work and went on and on and I had to say that she had got that wrong. This is the same twunt who told me I looked like her sister and that that made her want to slap me. I really need to write some searing, arse-burning letters. Pronto.
I hate them. Idiots.
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