A Brush With Stupidity.


Our lives have been turned upside down over the last couple of weeks because the building our flat is in, is being painted.

I don’t have much faith in the three blokes doing the work. They’re really good at drinking tea, gossiping about one of the residents in the flats who they describe as “Lady Muck” and sanding down windows they don’t realise they painted the previous day, creating even more work for themselves.

I came home from work yesterday and after I parked and locked the car, I heard a voice shout, “Can I be a nuisance?”. I looked up and saw one of the painters in a cherry picker. He told me it would be easier for him if I didn’t park in my allotted space. He said he could work above my car but would rather park the cherry picker in my space while he did that side of the building. I didn’t argue and just moved the car.

When I went inside, Julie told me about her day. One of the painters had been in the flat all day. The first thing he did was put his pot of paint down on our dining room table. Julie told him off, so he moved it and cleaned away the paint mark it left. When he eventually started work, he said out loud, “Thirsty work this!”. Many cups of tea later, he was painting the window frame in the living room, lost his balance and knocked over another pot of paint, all over the carpet.

I’m so glad I didn’t park my car underneath that cherry picker!

These are the blokes painting our flat!

These are the blokes painting our flat!

Craic on!

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