'Twas on a Monday morning the gas man came to call.
The gas tap wouldn't turn - I wasn't getting gas at all.
He tore out all the skirting boards to try and find the main
And I had to call a carpenter to put them back again.
The Gas Man Cometh, Flanders & Swann
As it happens it was a Wednesday, and an afternoon, now I come to think about it, but Bob the Gas Man came nonetheless. I'd found him on the Gas Safe Register to give the boilers (yes, gentle reader, there's two of them - more anon...) the once over before we moved in. We ended up having a lot of phone conversations as the previous owners were a bit lackadaisical in returning his calls to book an appointment - we got there in the end though.
I mentioned that we were getting a new cooker delivered on the Wednesday before Easter - did he think he'd be able to fit it for us before the weekend?
"No problem. Just give me a ring and I'll pop over!"
The cooker arrives at lunchtime and Bob is on the doorstep within half an hour and gets straight to work, interspersed with useful nuggets of information on the best local pubs, curry houses, car servicing, restaurants, and his colourful history servicing the heating for Whitehall and the Royal Palaces.
Bob decides that the cable the previous fitter had used for the electric oven is not the right size so downs tools and nips over to B&Q to get the right stuff. He also points out that the gas attachment for the hob isn't in the best place, so, before you know it, that's been moved too.
Every time we hired a tradesman in London, we were a teeny bit disappointed with the work they did: they left a big mess afterwards, or cut corners, or took an age to finish. But Bob, he's just brilliant: quietly efficient, friendly, and cheap - for all the additional work, he charged an extra £15.
I love Bob the Gas Man.