A couple of years ago we had a new house built. It was officially a conversion from a little chef restaurant, but in actuality there isn't much left of the original building. When it came to having the utilities connected, I expected it to be a simple and relatively inexpensive job, as we already had gas, water and electric supplies to the building. Boy was I wrong, the site surveyor from British Gas turned up, took one look and began sucking air through his teeth, "Gonna cost you a fortune for a gas connection mate, seeing as there is no gas here"
"Yes there is" I replied, that nice big 2 inch pipe is full of it",
"No its a dead pipe", was his expert reply. I promptly disproved this theory by glibly walking over too it, turning the valve on and listening to the high pressure rush of escaping gas with a triumphant smile on my face!
"Still can't use it" says he.
"Why the hell not" I demanded
"Because it isn't on my plan, so officially it doesn't exist", oh great, so anything not on his plan is living in the twilight zone. After a seconds thought, I came up with a cunning plan straight out of Blackadder. "I don't need your services any longer Mr surveyor man, I am going to have a friend of mine connect us up to directly to the pipe, ha!"
"That's theft son, call the police, you'll get locked up", which was a moot point, how could I steal something that officially didn't exist?
I was all for taking that line, but my significant other wouldn't hear of it, so in the end we agreed to let British Gas rip us off. They told us that we would have to arrange the digging of the trench from our property to the roadside, so the surveyor marked out the line of the trench and fixed a date for the connections team to turn up. Next day we hired a digger and dug the regulation depth trench straight across the property.
The big day turned up and the connections team arrived. After a full day digging exploratory holes around the end of the trench they still hadn't found the gas main. "Were gonna have to send someone else out tomorrow mate, we can't find it"
The next day a new team of monkeys turned up. They decided to go all technical and use an electronic system that sensed the existing metal pipe connection so they could trace its route. Unfortunately they didn't connect the transmitter part of the system to the pipe, so instead of a nice detectable pulse being transmitted along the length of the pipe for them to sense, they walked aimlessly around in circles until suddenly the receiver they were holding began to beep. "Found it", monkey number one stated with absolute certainty and began to dig. This certainty lasted about ten minutes until he hit the electricity cable he had just detected. After four more similar misadventures they too decided they couldn't find it and we would have to wait a week or so until crew number three turned up.
Super crew duly turned up. After another half a day of fruitless digging (by now our front drive resembled the Somme after a particularly heavy bombardment), they announced that in fact, the gas main wasn't where the surveyor had told us, it was in fact in a completely different direction, running along a road on another side of our property. After a heated discussion and a call back to base he announced that British Gas would take responsibility for digging the next trench.
A couple of weeks went by before crew number four arrived, complete with a mini digger. They ripped another trench through our property and actually succeeded in finding and connecting us to the gas mains! As they finished and prepared to leave, the head monkey on the crew told me that in a couple of days a crew would turn up to fill in and retarmac the 70 feet long trench they had left. Sure enough withing two days a tarmacking team arrived, filled in almost three foot of trench and left the other 67 feet untouched.
What followed was another farce out of a Basil Fawlty comedy. I would ring up at the start of the week and complain about the trench. I would be assured that it would be filled in before the end of the week. The week would end and the trench would remain untouched. I would then ring up and the cycle would be repeated. This went on for three months before I finally availed myself of the services of a solicitor and managed to threaten BG into finishing the job.
A peaceful twelve months went by until a team turned up and announced that they were here to remove the existing pipe that didn't exist as it could be dangerous. They proceeded to begin digging holes where they thought the pipe would be and we ended up with a number of holes dotted about our drive yet again. The situation now is that after eight weeks the holes still haven't been sorted, so now I am about to begin a new tactic. On Monday morning I am going to ring up the emergency gas leak line and report a leak. When the British Gas monkeys turn up I am going to point the holes out and ask for them to be filled in. The next day I am going to repeat the process. I am going to do this everyday until either I die of old age or British Gas actually manage to finish a job they have begun.
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"Yes there is" I replied, that nice big 2 inch pipe is full of it",
"No its a dead pipe", was his expert reply. I promptly disproved this theory by glibly walking over too it, turning the valve on and listening to the high pressure rush of escaping gas with a triumphant smile on my face!
"Still can't use it" says he.
"Why the hell not" I demanded
"Because it isn't on my plan, so officially it doesn't exist", oh great, so anything not on his plan is living in the twilight zone. After a seconds thought, I came up with a cunning plan straight out of Blackadder. "I don't need your services any longer Mr surveyor man, I am going to have a friend of mine connect us up to directly to the pipe, ha!"
"That's theft son, call the police, you'll get locked up", which was a moot point, how could I steal something that officially didn't exist?
I was all for taking that line, but my significant other wouldn't hear of it, so in the end we agreed to let British Gas rip us off. They told us that we would have to arrange the digging of the trench from our property to the roadside, so the surveyor marked out the line of the trench and fixed a date for the connections team to turn up. Next day we hired a digger and dug the regulation depth trench straight across the property.
The big day turned up and the connections team arrived. After a full day digging exploratory holes around the end of the trench they still hadn't found the gas main. "Were gonna have to send someone else out tomorrow mate, we can't find it"
The next day a new team of monkeys turned up. They decided to go all technical and use an electronic system that sensed the existing metal pipe connection so they could trace its route. Unfortunately they didn't connect the transmitter part of the system to the pipe, so instead of a nice detectable pulse being transmitted along the length of the pipe for them to sense, they walked aimlessly around in circles until suddenly the receiver they were holding began to beep. "Found it", monkey number one stated with absolute certainty and began to dig. This certainty lasted about ten minutes until he hit the electricity cable he had just detected. After four more similar misadventures they too decided they couldn't find it and we would have to wait a week or so until crew number three turned up.
Super crew duly turned up. After another half a day of fruitless digging (by now our front drive resembled the Somme after a particularly heavy bombardment), they announced that in fact, the gas main wasn't where the surveyor had told us, it was in fact in a completely different direction, running along a road on another side of our property. After a heated discussion and a call back to base he announced that British Gas would take responsibility for digging the next trench.
A couple of weeks went by before crew number four arrived, complete with a mini digger. They ripped another trench through our property and actually succeeded in finding and connecting us to the gas mains! As they finished and prepared to leave, the head monkey on the crew told me that in a couple of days a crew would turn up to fill in and retarmac the 70 feet long trench they had left. Sure enough withing two days a tarmacking team arrived, filled in almost three foot of trench and left the other 67 feet untouched.
What followed was another farce out of a Basil Fawlty comedy. I would ring up at the start of the week and complain about the trench. I would be assured that it would be filled in before the end of the week. The week would end and the trench would remain untouched. I would then ring up and the cycle would be repeated. This went on for three months before I finally availed myself of the services of a solicitor and managed to threaten BG into finishing the job.
A peaceful twelve months went by until a team turned up and announced that they were here to remove the existing pipe that didn't exist as it could be dangerous. They proceeded to begin digging holes where they thought the pipe would be and we ended up with a number of holes dotted about our drive yet again. The situation now is that after eight weeks the holes still haven't been sorted, so now I am about to begin a new tactic. On Monday morning I am going to ring up the emergency gas leak line and report a leak. When the British Gas monkeys turn up I am going to point the holes out and ask for them to be filled in. The next day I am going to repeat the process. I am going to do this everyday until either I die of old age or British Gas actually manage to finish a job they have begun.
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