| Saturday, July 10, 2004 |
 | So, I still have no hot water. By now this is no longer a surprise, just a fact. However, I have been given something endlessly more precious. A sense of community.
It began with the arrival of my landlady’s father. He, in turn, introduced the builder, at whose birth (or christening. As I said before, please God let it be christening) my landlady’s father had attended. Then, on Thursday, the builder called to say that he was having some trouble getting hold of the gas fitter; his wife was very ill and as such he was not in the best place to come along and certify that the boiler was usable.
I admit, one part of my brain did wonder at the idea that somebody who has spent perhaps two decades or more in the building business might only know one gas fitter. But that unworthy impulse was flooded out by a wave of concern for the wife of this man, whom I had never met and, now that I have long since given up waiting in for the highly stochastic visitations of my workpeople, probably never shall.
At last, there is some part of the vibrant culture of South London that I can feel truly a part of. And somebody else is paying for it. Winner!
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