The managing agency of our block sent round the guy who runs the buiding, the lady who drew up our contract and a planning officer to discuss 're-housing'.
We cleaned the flat, hoovered, set the camcorder up to record. The GR bought a whoopee cushion, oh there were no flies on us.
When they showed up 5 minutes late, they were children. The planning officer must have been all of 18 and sat on the whoopee cushion without even noticing, we were too ashamed to tell them we were filming.
So, it transpires if the permission is granted by Westminster council the building work will start in April, and they promised to give us at least 3 months notice before any scaffolding goes up. Ho hum.
They were off to see the old gentleman in the flat above us after and probably got more of an ear bending from him.
As to the fridge noise from downstairs, we've kind of got used to it and it transpires the manager has been given his marching orders (nothing to do with us). So heaven only knows what will be under us next, it could be a 24 hour roller disco playing techno very loudly, as I said before 'better the devil you know'.
Only time will tell. But we're hoping we might get a peaceful Christmas.
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2 comments:
You slipped a whoopee cushion undera minor official? I love you.
Good luck with it all! x
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