For the last 4 years I've lived in Social Housing on Social Benefits as an unpaid carer to a disabled person, unable to work or otherwise earn money.
The place is a rat-hole, thown together in the 60s and hasnt been upgraded since, including shared amenities like a refuse chute.
Well, they took away our recyclng, so everything goes down there, from plastic to electronics, and goes straight to a landfill, so I collected a large stack of beer cans my OCD wouldnt let me abandon among other things like polystyrene supermarket pizza rounds that would otherwise loiter in the ground forever. I had the intention to recycle them somehow, and use a lot of scrap materials in my work.
4 days before Christmas, just to utterly ruin that as punishment for kicking up a fuss about this, among other failings on the behalf of our Social Care system, we're being moved somewhere more appropriate for humans, so I'm leaving my trash piled in the middle of the lounge in protest.
Now I wasnt expecting much from this, in fact I wasnt expecting to ever hear of it again being the nature of my work. But dont you just hate it when something works so well its just invisible?
I had a letter from the council containing a schedule for repairs, kind of an advance warning of the scale of the bill I was about to be hit with. Now because Igor even screwed up the logistics of the move and left me to do it the day before I moved, four days before Exmas, I couldnt do any of the things I needed to do to avoid said bill.
A whiny voice on the end of the phone apologising profusely for being useless and promising to pay for the move and ensuing costs was a bit pointless, and to be fair its not cost me a penny as promised, but I couldnt get a skip in time and didnt want one of those for christmas either. Cheers Igor.
Its how he got his name.
'Pleathe dont beat me again Mathter, Im tho thtupid...'
Curses! Well throw the switches properly, and dont make me...
Anyhoo, back to the schedule.
It listed such delights as a door with a hole punched in it that I inherited with the place and was signed off, among other little niggles like patches of bare asbestos cement left by the contractors when I moved in, and the boiler was instantly condemned for CO2 emissions and replaced. I should think so too, but they never came back to patch up the holes they left properly so I wasnt going to be charged for that even if I'm not paying it.
There was no mention of Bender... Just the trash, itemised as a large pile of beer cans left in the kitchen. Humourless b*ds.
So, much later I had cause to speak to the council about something else, and got transferred to the manager of the department issuing the bill. She laughed at my explanation and thanked me profusely for the joke, the photos are all around the offices and its the most spectacular thing she's ever seen, but she does have a job to do.
So, she took Igor's number after I explained who I am and what had occurred, and then assured me it was settled ; Igor commissioned and paid for Bender, and he will find out from the Council Manager billing him for it.
Honey, you may be wrapped in greasy skin, but inside you've got the heart of a robot.