Old Timers with Time on their Hands

If you’ve ever been kept waiting in your dressing gown for several hours, while a plumber ums and ahs over a broken washer that should have cost 10 pence to replace, then please spare a thought for the 12 elderly people who have been stuck in their rooms since Christmas Day because they’re waiting for their lift to be fixed. The residents of Clashfarquhar House, in Stonehaven, Aberdeenshire, are awaiting a replacement lift gearbox which is apparently being manufactured in Italy. Personally, I’d be more worried about the residents who haven’t been able to find their way home after a day out, because they can’t pronounce the name. Especially if they have false teeth.

Taxi driver: Where to, madam?

Resident: Clashfarquhar.

Taxi driver: Ok, take the money! But there’s really no need for that language, you foul-mouthed fossil!

Anyway back to the point – the gearbox should be arriving on April 10th, but that’s still over three months for the job to be done. Even in my book, that ranks as pretty tardy. The Italians have a reputation as being a laid-back bunch, but having lived with one for the past two years, I can tell you this isn’t true. Come Boxing Day, she would have been on the phone exclaiming that the “fucking lift” should be “running like Linford Christie with the shits” in her most dulcet of tones. So this begs the question – why is the lift taking so long to fix? I have several theories:

1. With all the oxygen at ground level, the octogenarians become capable of free thought and start to notice that the food is made of stickle bricks, so the staff are keeping them aloft for as long as possible
2. The staff have turned the ground floor into a Robot Wars arena, and have fitted the lift gearbox with some false teeth, therefore creating the robotic bringer of death: Pensionbot
3. The lift shaft has been turned into an indoor bungee arena
4. The lift shaft has been turned into a giant Pez dispenser
5. The relatives of the elderly residents could never be bothered to visit anyway and now they have an excuse.

In any case, being stuck in bed for three months while somebody brings you your food and wipes your arse sounds like my idea of heaven. I might see if I can get a room there (If I can find the place, of course).

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