Sam Sam the Saniflo Man

I won’t go into detail because you might be reading this before breakfast but we have a plumbing problem.

We have had a plumbing problem for ten years – ever since we installed the world’s most expensive en-suite bathroom. It’s not particularly wonderful – it’s not a wet-room, for instance.

Although our neighbour whose dining room is underneath does have a wet-room. Every time our Saniflo loo leaks, guess where the water goes?

Obviously mending these gadgets is not a particularly pleasant task and most plumbers refuse to touch them. This means whose who do are able to charge a standard £85 for a call-out.

I don’t hold this against Sam the Saniflo man. We’ve got to know each other very well over the years. Obviously I’ve told him about my Utility business. In fact I’ve suggested it would fit in very well with what he does. He’s had a DVD but he decided against it so now I don’t mention it. I just let him park beside the Mini. I just invite him into my office while I write the cheque. I just have my MD planner on the wall, a stack of piggy cards on the desk…

“How’s your utility business going?” he asks because someone has to break the awkward silence.

Five minutes later we’re sitting down going through the Martini presentation.
He wants to think about it. He wants to watch the DVD again. I can wait. I know I’ll be seeing him again… and again…