The Polish Experience By Nicholas Westerby This ... - GetSab.Com

The fucking mug who was paying, that’s who.
By the time the weekend had rolled around guilt and the realisation that things
needed to be done on the cheap led me to agreeing to hiring or well, paying
Elly’s Granddad’s friend’s son and his crew. The electrician was an old friend
of Elly’s Mum and the doors had already been fitted by an actual professional
who gave a receipt and everything.
I knew he was a professional because we made an appointment, he came,
measured up, came back and fitted the doors. That is how things should work. I
knew there were some sensible business people in every country, unfortunately
that did not extend to the son’s of friend’s of Granddad’s of women with foreign
lovers. No the roofers should have turned up on horseback with their six-
shooters holstered to their hips because they were cowboys plain and simple.
We visited Elly’s Aunt and Uncle’s come her Grandparents the weekend before
they should have started and I was warmly welcomed. I thought that it was
because they really liked me, maybe they just liked me pouring more vodka
money into the village.
We had come not for a visit really but to collect one of the dogs. A black and
brown one, at least he’d look like an Alsatian even if he was pint sized. We had
already prepared by buying a food and water bowl, a lead and some toys. We