Embarrassment

We have an excellent plumber, who is also our handyman. His name is Pete.  Mike is not handy.  Not at handyman things.  He's handy at complex financial analysis and board papers.  But he can't fix a dripping tap.  Or hang up a netball hoop.

And as it happened, we needed both these jobs done yesterday, so I called Pete.  Pete is tall, dark, handsome, young (like under 30) and endlessly good natured.  He is faultless.  He always fits my little jobs into his next day, so I never have to wait, and he always turns up on time.

Except the b**stard broke his arm riding a motorbike.  But it's OK, after I made all the appropriate noises that go with being told about a broken arm, and then all the other appropriate noises about the news of his new baby girl, he said he'd send his brother JP.  Just as tall, not as dark or handsome but just as lovely.  The next day of course, as always.

Early the same morning I had an appointment at the Doctor.  It's the one we all dread, it comes around every two years.  I usually wait for about four reminder letters before I make an appointment.  And I usually change the appointment about three times before I actually go.  But yesterday was it.  I went.

And then when I came home I left all the paperwork, referral letter, pathology form in all its helpful, informative detail etc, on the bench.  Next to the sink.  Where the dripping tap was.

The doorbell rang, JP arrived.  I showed him what needed doing, we debated the relative appropriate heights of netball hoops and he got to work.  

By the time I realised he was privy to my...well, you know, he was in the kitchen fixing the tap.  There was no way I could go down and remove the offending (offensive) documents.  It was far too late, he'd either read it or he hadn't, and I'd never know which one it was. 

Cue a nervous breakdown and general embarrassment upstairs in my office.  Very quietly. 

And then, when he'd fixed the tap and hung the hoop, we said goodbye and thank you etc, and in a perfect example of how this blog name is so necessary in my life, I said nothing and acted casual like a champion. (What the hell was there to say really apart from thanks, and please go quickly)  He left, quickly and politely, saying his brother (damn you Pete) would send me an invoice.

I think it might be his motto too, because whether he read it or not, (and let's face it, he could hardly avoid it), he was impeccably casual.

And why would it have been any better if Pete had read it?  It would have been far worse because I have always had a bit of a cougary crush on Pete.

So if you've any need for a plumber/handyman to come to your house and read your intimate gynaecological paperwork, please contact Pete at Jetstream Plumbing.  He'll be out of the cast in about 4 weeks, but he'll send JP your way in the meantime.  And please, don't mention I sent you.