From day one the new boiler dripped every time it was on. I was informed this was temporary. They lied; the drips grew into a small pool. Eventually the boiler man was sent for. I had to meet him at the main road as nobody, absolutely nobody knows this obscure location . After being eaten alive for a few minutes by mosquitoes they finally arrived, but as there was no legal parking space, one bloke got off and the driver circled round.
Apparently the guy who had installed the boiler hadn’t done a good job and he rectified this by wrapping some stuff round some component. He tried to explain but being technically challenged I nodded politely. He told me to give it a week and if it still dripped to call the company. As soon as he had left the mobile rang. ‘Ah Ms. Yau could you please come out the dogs won’t let me leave!’
Let me explain. There are three dogs which belong to one of the villagers and they are responsible for ‘security’. Every time a stranger appears they go out, bark and stand guard. They work as a team and are extremely reliable and a great deterrent to would-be burglers. The good thing is they don’t only protect their owner but the whole of the hamlet as they roam free.
The boiler man complained that the dogs got really aggressive and one was about to bite his foot but luckily he stayed calm. So I had to escort him back to the main road. Pretty damn ironic huh, as I have always been in mortal fear of dogs and now I was bodyguard to a grown man.
Peace of mind reigned supreme for a couple of hours, no drip. Then all of a sudden a cascade of hot water gushed from one of the pipes attached to the bottom of the appliance and wouldn’t stop. In the end I was forced to switch off the mains as water and electrics aren’t a good mix. I was livid and blamed the boiler man for exacerbating what had been a minor irritation.
I phoned the company but of course it was close. In desperation I remembered I had the man’s mobile number from his earlier S.O.S. call. To say he was none too pleased to hear from me is an understatement. But after much persuasion he promised to ask his manager to approve a new boiler.
My helpful landlady also told me to only turn the mains on half way to lower the water pressure and hence reduce the volume gushing out. This seemed to produce some results.
When the boiler men eventually returned, the dripping had stopped altogether and the pipe was as dry as bone. They gave me a look as if to say I had exaggerated and lied to get a new boiler. Am I insane? Have I not got anything better to do? I mean, if everything was fine, why would I bother them? After all I am only a tenant, I just want to be able to have a shower without the boiler dripping.
Well, as they couldn’t see any evidence of a cascade, no, not even a drop, they carted off the brand new replacement and told me to contact the company if the dripping resumed. I felt so frustrated and even threw a mini-tantrum, stamping my feet in spite of my advanced years. Isn’t it ironic that it should stop dripping the minute they arrive .
But to be honest, thus far no drip has been spotted in the vicinity. Believe me, I have become paranoid and obsessive in checking. Let’s keep our fingers crossed and hope that the boiler men need never face the dogs again.
I’ll tell you about the antiquated air conditioner another time.