DOWN TO A TEA

Jon Taylor

Stuff & Things

Ah tea... it's a wondrous thing. Keeps me happy and sane during the day, gets me through hard times, improves the better times. I wonder what the record is for the number of cups of tea I've had in a day? Eight? 12? 27? It probably isn't 27... that'd be one cup every 28 minutes or something.

Could be close though. I write this sat at my desk with a mug of homemade tea and am typing away. It's all very exciting. I mean, anything could happen. The mug has got 'Blah, blah blah' written on it. It's life on the edge stuff.

I’m sat by the window at my basement flat so can see the street outside and the comings and goings of people as they do their thing. Not that there are many comings and goings at the moment what with the lockdown an' all. My attention turns to my email account and the usual junk that gets sent to me. There's one about having a smart meter installed when things are more relaxed. I wonder if this is a job I could do? I'm quite smart. I can read. It must be quite nice being a smart meter installer. I could drive around in a van stuffed full of equipment, getting my lump hammer in and out of it. Best thing about it might be the way you can have a mild snoop around everyone's house that you visit. I don't mean they go riffling through your drawers or anything, that'd be rude, but they get to see all the different styles, see people's choices of colour and furniture. Is everywhere painted grey? That would be the way to find out.

“It must be quite nice being a smart meter installer. I could drive around in a van stuffed full of equipment, getting my lump hammer in and out of it”

I wonder if there's ever a situation where they have to back out of the house and politely leg it? If the smart meter needs to be put in the basement and that's where the customer's sex dungeon is, do they quickly flee before they see the full range of toys down there? If there's a chest freezer in the garage where the meter's going, and they pop it open and see a mass of frozen road kill, do they muffle their screams and run? If they pop into the living room and see row after row of dolls heads strewn across the floor, do they casually make their excuses and leg it? It's probably not that exciting. You probably rock up, install the meter in the quintessential British hallway and head onto the next stop. I guess you might get offered a cup of tea as you do so. Perhaps a biscuit. Imagine the number of cups of tea they must get through in a day? Good grief, this could be my ideal job! I might have to arrange some toilet facilities though. That much tea would have consequences and there's only so many empty cola bottles you can fill up in your van before it looks rather unprofessional. Something to ponder though...