Entries Tagged 'Belgium' ↓

On returning to Brussels (wet), there was a pile of post (largely dry, often junk). The pile included a notification from Taxipost (post that isn’t delivered by taxi, despite the name). It told me that I’d missed a delivery and that they’d keep it for 7 days.

7 days, in the middle of August, when everybody is on holiday.

7 days, before they send it back halfway around the world.

7 days.

7 days later, when I was still abroad, they sent me another note telling me that it would be returned to sender. This was a week before I got back.

So this morning I called them.

It turned out they had it, but they sent it back. To China. To somebody called “Anus Scott”. And no, there’s nothing I can do about it.

So I called “Anus“. Turns out it was two kilos of tea.

Damn.

One of my jobs, once upon a time, in a small country called Malta, I made a living selling timeshare. I used to console myself that the one sure thing about people’s money was that it would be spent somewhere, somehow. Why not spend it with me?

My Dad, not so long ago, mentioned his relief that I was doing a real job now. He said he’d found it difficult explaining to folk that his son was a timeshare salesman. His job is quite the opposite. He’s a priest.

The thing about the timeshare industry is the bollocks. The big bollocks. It’s full of big swinging dicks, trying to out-do one another on the macho-scale. You live on the bread-line if you’re no good, and in Monaco if you’re hot. It’s not an industry that’s conducive to family life or keeping friends, nor is it one that allows you to talk about anything else when you’re winding down with colleagues after a hard day’s slog.

I only did it for a year. I made a few quid and had a blast. I got out in time to save my humanity and keep my ego in check. And now …

… now I’m the one spending money on property. For the first time I’m experiencing the cold sweats that go with tying oneself up in debt for the next twenty years. I’m battling with the plumber, arguing with the foreman and bouncing banks off one another, convincing myself that my business is worth too much to them for them to say no to me.

I think I may be getting paranoid, but I think I’m also being screwed left, right and centre. Because our apartment is brand spanking new, we’re having to buy baths and cookers, and get the gas people to come and install a meter. Without our asking, there’s been a middle-man crop up at every step. The plumber, who got us a “great deal” on bathroom appliances, gave us an initial price that we managed to knock down by more than 45%. What a crook. We got a bill from the building company for installing the gas, water and electricity meters. It came to the price of a Caribbean holiday. A quick call to the utility companies revealed that we’re being royally shafted.

We’re fighting our corner, of course, winning a few battles but losing the war. I’d understand (if I was a more religious sort of person) that it’s divine retribution for (perhaps, just slightly) mis-selling my great product when I was working in Malta. But surely not everybody who buys a house is paying for sins of a past life?

So we budgeted very carefully. We allowed 500 euros for the bathroom, and are reasonably happy with an amount only six times that amount. The place came finished! Do you know how much taps cost? Bills keep coming from nowhere. Just to get connected to the water mains is more than bathing in Evian for a year. And here’s me thinking we’re living in the First World.

On top of that a sneaky Belgian policeman jumped in front of the Tractor when I was driving where I shouldn’t have been. Consequently I’ve received a letter that may or may not be a summons. It asks me if I’m happy with the amount mentioned. It doesn’t mention an amount, so I’m tempted to say yes. It also mentions that the Tractor is black, but it’s definitely not black. More grape-coloured. I’m hoping to get off on a technicality. I’m not holding my breath.

Meanwhile, speaking of the First World, Gussly is back off on his travels to the Third World, arriving in China sometime about now. Please drop by and say hello from me.