Say the magic word
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK
"Housekeeping"
The hinges squeaked as I opened the door to find a chubby, dark haired woman in her thirties wearing a don't-mess-with-me black skirt and white shirt.
"Hello. I am Milana Alexandrov-Thomson. I am Head of Housekeeping. Welcome."
"Thanks." I extended a hand which she duly took and shook in a manner matching the outfit and tone of voice.
"I just vant to say, I saw light bulbs in common kitchen are changed. You cannot do this."
"Oh, I had some spare and thought it was better. You know, so the Girls don't fall over or burn themselves when they're cooking."
"No, you need to open ticket with Maintenance. You need to send email to maintenance@thistleschool.co.uk"
"Oh, OK." I must have looked puzzled. She added, as if to explain "You do not have Hardware Clearance."
"No, you're right, I don't. Can I get Hardware Clearance?"
"No! Why you vant? You open ticket with Maintenance. They come. They fix! It is simple."
"Right. And about the fleas in the carpet? I sent you an email..."
"Ah, yes. Ve can do nothing, but I have contacted pest control and they will send someone round."
"OK, well. Thanks, Milana. And one more thing, the gas boiler really smells. The alarm hasn't gone off or anything, but there really is a strong smell in here, especially first thing in the morning."
"Viktortheoddjobman," she said in one breath as if this was his full name, "he'll come and check it." And she was off with a swish of her skirt.
Ten minutes later: knock-knock.
"Maintenance."
A grey-haired, unsmiling man in clean overalls was standing there holding what you'd expect a handy man to hold: a ladder in one hand and a tool box in the other.
"I was told by Mrs Alexandrov-Thomson that you have a problem with the boiler." There was a slight tinge of a non-native speaker accent.
He got to work, unscrewing, pushing, testing and finally came out with "I need to put in ventilator. It will not take me long time." Polish? Ukranian? Czech?
"OK. That's fine. So, Viktor, how long have you been living in England? I don't mean to be nosy, but you see, I'm also a foreigner: I'm from Scotland."
"I love Scotland. I was there last summer with my wife and children. It's so beautiful. I'm from Poland. I been here for 5 years." A hint of a smile.
"It's good that you were able to find a proper job over here."
He looked me straight in the eye, not smiling anymore. "I was the manager of big coal mining company in South of Poland. I was in charge of 257 people and I loved my job. Then, they told me I was old and that new blood must come. I took early retirement and this job." He spat the last two words out.
The silence is starting to make me feel uncomfortable when he finally says, screwing on the cover, "This boiler. It's old. It's shit. The only thing you can do to have less smell is turn off at night. I'm sorry."
"Thank you" I mutter, british politeness obliges. And he is gone, leaving me in my flea-infested, gas-smelling apartment with no Hardware Clearance and my new life.
"Housekeeping"
The hinges squeaked as I opened the door to find a chubby, dark haired woman in her thirties wearing a don't-mess-with-me black skirt and white shirt.
"Hello. I am Milana Alexandrov-Thomson. I am Head of Housekeeping. Welcome."
"Thanks." I extended a hand which she duly took and shook in a manner matching the outfit and tone of voice.
"I just vant to say, I saw light bulbs in common kitchen are changed. You cannot do this."
"Oh, I had some spare and thought it was better. You know, so the Girls don't fall over or burn themselves when they're cooking."
"No, you need to open ticket with Maintenance. You need to send email to maintenance@thistleschool.co.uk"
"Oh, OK." I must have looked puzzled. She added, as if to explain "You do not have Hardware Clearance."
"No, you're right, I don't. Can I get Hardware Clearance?"
"No! Why you vant? You open ticket with Maintenance. They come. They fix! It is simple."
"Right. And about the fleas in the carpet? I sent you an email..."
"Ah, yes. Ve can do nothing, but I have contacted pest control and they will send someone round."
"OK, well. Thanks, Milana. And one more thing, the gas boiler really smells. The alarm hasn't gone off or anything, but there really is a strong smell in here, especially first thing in the morning."
"Viktortheoddjobman," she said in one breath as if this was his full name, "he'll come and check it." And she was off with a swish of her skirt.
Ten minutes later: knock-knock.
"Maintenance."
A grey-haired, unsmiling man in clean overalls was standing there holding what you'd expect a handy man to hold: a ladder in one hand and a tool box in the other.
"I was told by Mrs Alexandrov-Thomson that you have a problem with the boiler." There was a slight tinge of a non-native speaker accent.
He got to work, unscrewing, pushing, testing and finally came out with "I need to put in ventilator. It will not take me long time." Polish? Ukranian? Czech?
"OK. That's fine. So, Viktor, how long have you been living in England? I don't mean to be nosy, but you see, I'm also a foreigner: I'm from Scotland."
"I love Scotland. I was there last summer with my wife and children. It's so beautiful. I'm from Poland. I been here for 5 years." A hint of a smile.
"It's good that you were able to find a proper job over here."
He looked me straight in the eye, not smiling anymore. "I was the manager of big coal mining company in South of Poland. I was in charge of 257 people and I loved my job. Then, they told me I was old and that new blood must come. I took early retirement and this job." He spat the last two words out.
The silence is starting to make me feel uncomfortable when he finally says, screwing on the cover, "This boiler. It's old. It's shit. The only thing you can do to have less smell is turn off at night. I'm sorry."
"Thank you" I mutter, british politeness obliges. And he is gone, leaving me in my flea-infested, gas-smelling apartment with no Hardware Clearance and my new life.
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