, ,

I think its time for another of the non-football stories, and this one has no point or purpose, but then those are the best ones aren’t they?

Many years ago someone I know decided to have an extension to his house built. Planning permission was sought, and obtained quickly, and soon enough the builders arrived. The upheaval was minimal, and the extension was quickly completed. There was however one major problem, they left the two new rooms unplastered.

With the house being in Oxford, the owner had contacts with the university and a local plasterer was quickly found.  The homeowner asked for a quote and was rather surprised when he was quoted, “£XXXX and a bottle of Scotch!” 

An unusual quote, but it was highly competitive, and the plasterer’s testimonials were beyond reproach so he was hired. A day was agreed, and he turned up with his hawk and trowel as agreed. What happened next is still talked about to this day.

He drank the bottle of Scotch, then as fast as lightening mixed the plaster, and within a minute or two the walls were as plastered as the artisan. The finish was perfect first time, and with his cheque in his pocket, the plasterer staggered off into the ether. The cheque was soon cashed, but the plasterer was never seen again.

There aren’t many people who can do their job inebriated, and still fewer that can only do the job drunk but this chap certainly could and had to. He obviously had a drink problem, and while I’ll never know what happened to him, I hope he got treated for his condition. The house was sold about 20 years after the plasterer’s visit, and the walls were still in perfect condition.