Friday, December 10, 2004


I don't get home much now. Why would I when I have my meals cooked for me at another house? And much better than I could knock up they are too. Watski's no fool.

My house sits lonely though, pining for my return daily. Or at least I hope it does, it ought to with the money I spend on the ungrateful thing. The days pass by, the neighbour continues to slam his doors and Clive the goldfish gets fat as it eats the 4 days worth of food I give it all in one go. I've warned him that he'll put on weight. The Kleeneze catalogue still gets delivered despite my protestations, and in it's wake the clump of red 'sorry we missed you' (with sad face) leaflets pile up afterwards.

Things come and things go in my absence I guess. To prove this I have to battle through the door when I arrive as the plethora of junk mail combines to try and keep me out. I feel like I'm disturbing something in my own house.

I get back for 2 nights a week at the most, a couple of hours on another night and then Sunday morning for the football.

So how is that the door to door callers always seem to catch me in?

Within 10 minutes of getting back last night the NPower dork had arrived. It cant be the greatest job in the world but I've no sympathy for people coming to my door trying to sell me something I dont want. Imagine a Dixons Saturday boy with a large overcoat and a clipboard trying to sell you a power supply. That's what greeted me.

"Don't shout at me, but can I interest you in cheaper electricity Sir?" he said as I opened the door.

I wasn't planning to shout at him, maybe I looked like the type of person that would. Maybe it was the lack of flashing festivity in the front garden that singled me out as a shouter.

He showed me photo ID so that I would be safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't be rummaging around under my mattress whilst I was in the kitchen getting him a drink of water.

"It's not me who you want to be tempting with cheaper electricity, it's these soft sods round here with their Christmas lights you want to be talking to..." I replied, as the neighbour nodded at me.

"...let me save you and me the hassle of a sales pitch and just say no now. It's cold." I told him.

"Any reason for that Sir?" He went on.

"Well, if I wanted something, anything at all then I would get it on my own initiative rather than get it from someone who sells it door to door at 8pm on a Thursday evening, and even then I would do a bit of investigating so that I got the best deal. And it's cold."

"You'd look at the internet then would you Sir?" He replied.

The internet? Me? What did he know? What had he seen? I eyed him up and down, suspiciously.


"Can I suggest that you dont look at the comparison sites then as they dont always show the best comparisons" He bumbled.

I was relieved that he continued as he did after the words '...look at the'. I was beginning to wonder where he was going with the conversation.

I hadn't got the energy to pick at what he'd just said, although I was mightily tempted. If it had been summer, lighter, warmer and I'd been in one of my winding up moods then he'd have been in a conversation that he wished he hadn't got into. He'd got off lightly.

I released the prey, closed and locked the door. There would have been a collective exhale of breath at that moment in the living rooms in the houses of the Lions around the world as they watched another door to door salesman escape the clutches of a Watksi on their Human wildlife programmes.

No sooner had I reached the top step of the stairs than the door went again.

"Collecting for the windows mate" said the scruffy looking bloke as I opened it again.

I was tempted to enquire about the need to collect money for windows, and what downturn in luck had befallen them that meant haggard old men were collecting money on their behalf. I was being given so many open goals tonight, but I let this one pass too. The Lions all 'phewed' again.

"How much do I owe you"

"Just £3 mate, front and back"

"Back? How did you get round the back?" I said, intrigued. I'd started locking the back gate to prevent DEG from completing a return visit. He couldn't get round surely.

"I've got me ladders" he said as I handed over £3. He then tapped his nose and wandered off.

I still cant work out how he did them.