10:15 Saturday Night
Every house has one….some have even more than one. It might be in the lounge, or the kitchen, or the bathroom….some people even have them in the bedroom. I’m talking about those domestic fails. A place within your own personal palace where things go awry…a place where you know that bad things are going to happen and you know that you don’t want to go there.
Take HRD Towers. We bought a new fridge freezer not so long ago. We did the research, we read the reviews, we did all the price comparison sites and settled on a purchase. It arrived white, spanking new and efficient – a model of modern domesticity. The problem? Within a few weeks we had realised it was crap. I mean, it fulfils all the basic functions, it cools, it freezes, it is a fridge freezer….but it just doesn’t work. The freezer shelves don’t fit they fall off their runners and so what should be a simple trip to fetch some frozen peas, becomes a giant game of freezer orientated Jenga.
So of course, none of us want to go there. And the game becomes to get one of the other family members to go. A kind of domestic musical chairs. The one without the chair has to go and face the trial of freezer mountain. Boldly they set off (grumbling under their breath) before the crashing sound of frozen produce, the new and colourful swear words…..the swings(!) and arrows of outrageous fortune. Dodgy cupboard shelves, dripping taps, doors that don’t close properly, toilets that don’t flush……
We all have them, we all know about them, we all know we should be doing something about them. But hell, we’re busy people no? And what is more important, our social time or some poxy little domestic blip on the……..woah…did you here that drip noise?……I mean I can’t write with that…..stop it…..just turn it off properly….no I didn’t fix it…..did you?……for fuck’s sake…….
So, anyway, today my hell isn’t just other people, my hell is inanimate objects.