When I first viewed my current flat in January 2001 the (then) current encumbant, Dimos, was in dire insolvency and needed a quick sale. The place was already under offer to someone who was dragging their heels (and was apparently buying it to let out) so Dimos (and agent) encouraged me to make an offer and complete in four weeks. The view from the flat of Dover Castle at night persuaded me. I have not had cause for regret ever since.
But dear Dimos, in his anxiety to obtain cash from any source, tried to sell me the washing machine and fridge-freezer that were old but, as I considered, functional. However, he had already ticked the boxes on the legal documents that they were included in the sale. He tried it on but I was also desperate for cash and had to borrow the deposit on the flat so I was in no position to be “understanding”. He got his sale in four weeks and I moved into the flat with second hand furniture (except for the bed, which had to be new). The place stunk of cigarettes because D was a chain smoker. But I couldn’t afford to replace the carpets for three years.
The washing machine left behind by my reluctant benefactor lasted for precisely one wash (the fridge freezer survived for a couple of years). The hot water cylinder also developed a slow leak within weeks of moving in and the central heating suffered from major problems too. I was quickly piling up a whole load of debt on credit. So I decided on the cheapest possible washing machine as a replacement. I think it cost me about one hundred and ninety quid. A work colleague who was also in dire financial straits with a new family in the offing recommended it to me. It was a Servis model and although it won no prizes for beauty or “state of the art” technology it performed well and without trouble for all of eight years.
But in 2009 it was starting to complain about age. Clothes were retrieved from the drum with soapy residue on them. The rubber seal was retaining so much water that half a kitchen paper roll was needed to soak up the moisture. By early March the decision was taken. It would have to be retired to that great laundrette in the sky.
Now came the decision. What should I replace it with? A travelling companion on my daily commute is the type of guy who obsessively hates to be welched on anything he buys. Of course – we all do. But he will examine every possible option, pontificate and prevaricate and often he will end up with something “O.K” (but really not worth the fuss). So I went onto the website of “Comet” who retail all sorts of electrical stuff and chose a washing machine which fitted the price I wanted and then went to the payment screen. After a few seconds it crashed on me. This caused me to check the website of “Currys” which is another High Street electrical retailer. This time I saw a washer dryer (which as I live in a flat could be especially useful in the winter months) which was dearer than my previous choice but was reduced by one hundred quid from it’s original cost. I thought, “yeah, what the hell” and this time the transaction went through. The dark thoughts of “why is it reduced? Is it notoriously unreliable and they just want to clear the stock?” occurred to me but, hey, go with it. As I am notoriously disinterested in anything “Do it Yourself” I opted for the removal of the old machine, and connection of the new. Thank goodness that I’m single! Any partner of mine would probably despair at my lack of acumen as regards maintenance in the home. “Save up and pay someone to do it properly and with the proper tools” is my motto. However, I do change my own lightbulbs 
……
To my amazement Currys offered the option of delivery on a Sunday without extra charge. This was excellent. Sunday March 22nd was the date chosen. I found that I could ring up after 21.00 hours the day before to discover was four hour time slot had been allocated for delivery. I did so and found that delivery would be between seven and eleven in the morning. Bang went my Sunday morning alarm-free repose!
I had an unsettled night. I recalled that when my Servis washing machine was delivered they had made a mistake and a jet of water shot across the kitchen when they activated it. I worry about things like that. I also wondered whether I should have disconnected the old machine but then thought, NO. This morning I got up at half past six and cleaned the kitchen top to bottom. Certainly the delivery men weren’t going to give two hoots about it but it made me feel better.
At nine twenty they arrived. The delivery lorry pulled up outside and I was downstairs in a flash. A cheeky young assistant opened the door and said “You a top floor flat mate?” I nodded. “Oh! Sorry, but yer washing machine’s been damaged. We can’t do nuffin, mate!”
Then he grinned. I tried to enter into the spirit of their humour. His mate, the driver was a burly bloke who had lost most of his front teeth. I asked where they had driven from and was I their first call. No, they had already delivered four items and had come down from “Eariff” which is Erith (for those who are not familiar with this south-east London suburb on the Thames, nor the local pronunciation of it). The cheeky youngster went upstairs and checked out the washing machine to be taken away. I remained downstairs holding the hall door open. “Yeah, s’alright!” he yelled down from an open window. The thought crossed my mind that I had allowed a guy access to my flat while I was two storeys down holding the door for his mate. Was he rummaging through my credit card statements? Of course he wasn’t. When I got upstairs he had disconnected the old machine and had pulled it away from it’s place of residence of eight years. Shock Horror!!!!!
When the average person cleans a kitchen they don’t pull away heavy electric goods. Do they? Please say not. Because I discovered that the space left by the washing machine exposed eight years of accummulated grime. A tea bag lay there. So did two items of cutlery. And about four decaying oven chips. Along with appalling discolouration and grime. I was immediately on my hands and knees with Co-op Multi-Purpose cleaner and a scourer to remove this residue of embarrassment. The cheeky one grinned.
“Don’t you worry mate!” he exclaimed kindly. “This is CLEAN compared to what we normally see!”
The new machine was depositited and was of a dark chrome colour.
” ‘Ere, this ain’t the right colour is it?” exclaimed the young guy. I explained that I had not specified a colour when ordering and that although the rest of the items in the kitchen were white it really did not bother me. They then proceeded to complete the connection and I signed the paper to say that it had been delivered according to requirements and then they removed my old Servis which cast me a reproachful look from it’s gaping drum loader as if to say “is this my reward? After all Ive done for you?” It was ignominiously slid down the two flights of stairs, dumped in the truck and was removed while its usurper sat there smugly, challenging me to work it and waiting for its first load……
Well, it’s two and a half hours on….I’ve done the first “empty wash” that the instruction manual advises and am now within ten minutes of the end of the first “working wash”. I am becoming accustomed to the new burps and gushes and smells of the new machine.
Incredibly (for in the UK in 2009 ordering things can be an ordeal of inefficiency) the product arrived correctly and on time. The thing seems to work. I think that I am quite happy. Yes!
