I rock up to test the house electrics of a vicarage this morning. Long story short the vicarage is situated in the middle of a shithole, so the church use a letting agency that put short term clients in the empty properties so they don't get trashed by the local parishioners.
I turn up and one of the clients tells me they've just had notice to leave and informs me in a not so polite manner that NO I can't turn the power off for two hours. Fair enough I ring my gaffer and let him know then start to crack with some other bits of work. I go to pick up my tools from the van, hear the front door slam shut. Guys only fucked off, locked the door and some of my things are in the house. I wouldn't mind but I was polite and let all his misplaced rage wash over me, now he pulls this old chestnut.
He just got back I got my e-cig and whatnot,there's no chance I'm stopping so he can pull this shit again. Now there's the best part of a day's work written off.
I've driven an 80mile round trip for this shit, still the dog got a walk while I was here. Home James and don't spare the horses!. ETA
The tenants are taking there dispute with the letting agents to the press, this isn't going to loom good for the church. Apparently they been messed around by the agency during the course of the building work; which is shitty for them I agree. But when you've made the effort to be polite and courteous to people it's a bit of a pain in the arse.