8th August Wednesday
Wayne finally turned up to do my guttering, so after a quick chat, I had to take the Jag to Bristol for its service and MOT.
They say that customer service is important, and the dealer does make you feel important, but it doesn’t feel real. You just know that people are not the polite in real life. Every morning when they cuss and swear at other motorists during their journey to work, they then change into their work persona, and treat you like a god. When the keys are handed back, it is with both hands outstretched like giving you a precious object.
To me the service is an expensive clean and vacuum, but I guess it’s part of game.
I did get a F-pace courtesy car which was really comfortable, although the automatic setting of the previous driver (who must have been a small person) nearly squeezed out my juice.
Once I overcame that, it was great.
I was able to get back to the house to see how Wayne was doing. He brought his trusty old shaggy dog with him, who proceeded to follow me everywhere. He must have liked me, or I smelt like a tin of Chappie.
I took up all the floor pieces, and numbered them so that I could roll out the underlay, and finally fit the wood strips.
Normally I get in a bit of a state with this, but calmly, and precise Pete managed it without swearing.
Kelli sent me pictures of the painted shelf, and a coffee table I lovingly stripped the top.
Another Lifetime to go 