Nelson Galaxy

I had the electricians around again. Just part of the constant electrical difficulties I face. My explosive electric personality has a habit of wiping out all electronics in my home and at work. I try to avoid walking around places like Piccadilly Circus in case I wipe out the lights, or near major power stations, especially nuclear ones. My problem this time is in the bathroom, with a non-operational light and extractor fan.

I was expecting a visit from Mister Riz and was shocked when he didn’t show, in his smelly patronising glory. The new electricians on the block are a young Latin couple, a rather strange gentleman who speaks no English and his wife, who acts as translator. I have seen them before in the building and they seem friendly enough. The man also does the flat stairs hoovering of a morning, so a general dogs-body.

The lady was very friendly and affable enough. The fellow was an odd looking man. He had an amazingly craggy and furry face for someone of his years. The more I studied his face, spouting a language I could not understand, the more I thought he looked like a dog, or a wolf. He had the presence of somebody who had been bought up in a forest, with darting eyes and a keen sense of smell, foraging in the undergrowth for small rodents.

I had an overwhelming urge to bark at him, just to see what his reaction would be. He cannot understand English but maybe he understands the language of bark. It would have been rather strange though wouldn’t it? Anyway, I didn’t want him smelling my a*se.