Its a lockout - clefs sans portières

Categories: uncategorized

Date: 27 October 2009 15:09:17

The Master's annual speech to the college staff yesterday wherein the Master (that is his real job title) tells us that Oh good there are to be no staff cuts. But a 38% increase in student numbers. So we hang around and eat the peanuts and olives and sip the "free" cheap white wine they always have at academic dos (there was red too but it wasn't that nice) and (would you believe it?) talked about football. 5pm is dangerously early for such behaviour. It leads to the smoking of cigarettes and the visiting of college bars. Which is good as far as it goes but inevitably leads to the pub. And last night that lead to arriving home after 1am to find that the door was locked against me. My key doesn't work. Try again. Push door, pull door. House is empty (or so I thought) but I tried banging on door to attract attention - and did get some from next door but two. Go and sit on someone else's wall. Try key again. Think about breaking in. Utter imprecatory prayers. It starts to rain. Sit on wall and smoke last fag. Try again. Yale key broke in lock leaving the shaft in there and me with twisted broken bit. So I smashed the window in the door with a wheely bin. And could reach in and operate the little nub on the lock that allows the handle to turn to open it, and also to unhitch the chain that someone has set against me. We live in downstairs flat. Someone has moved in upstairs without telling us. I didn't know anyone was there. I didn't even know they existed until after I got in and heard movement upstairs. I went up to talk to them. They look like small gay Brazilians. (Which knowing my luck with this shitty flat probably means they are in fact well-connected Corsican terrorists firmly committed to vendetta) I think I frightened them. Upsetting. They said that they had been told that the building was empty. And now I can't leave the house because I need to be here to let Abigail in when she comes back from visiting friends and I want to explain to here what happened and no we haven't been burgled. And because she was feeling fragile yesterday because she was late to university because she found a run-over cat in the street and called the cats rescue people and waited till they came. And I am missing a day from work. Maybe two. And I want - without much faith that it will happen - whoever is letting out the upstair flat to fix the door and pay for it themselves. Not the people living there, they are probably the victims of this. And I want them to put in a new lock and give me copies of the new keys. I want them to pay for it because it is their fault. Though my feelings are strengthened by remembering the something like six thousand pounds I had to pay a couple of years ago to get the shared drains fixed with no contribution from them at all even though they probably caused the damage and certainly needed the repairs. And I want them to clear up the mess from upstairs that they took out into the front and dumped in a pile against the side of the house - including broken furniture and a whole old carpet. And in my real fantasies I'd like them to pay for the severe damage to our ceiling caused by water from above on many, many occasions. But the truth is I don't even know who they are and if I did am I going to sue them?