“It’s day one. Danny and Pshamak (the P’s silent, but if you’re Polish Pshamak can hear it) finally show up a week and a half hour late to start painting and decorating the various bits of our house that look even more scuzzy than the other bits that aren’t being done because to have the whole thing done would cost us more than the GDP of a small developing country.
They start off by burying anything remotely useful (TV, cheque books, shoes, car keys and so on) under blue sheeting which is then taped down for the duration (estimated time 7 days, realtime 20 days). This takes the best part of the morning then Danny takes a break to go and buy some shoes and sardines and Pshamak knocks off for the day, mumbling something about having to go finish off somewhere else. You have to admire his honesty I guess. The thing with Pshamak is, I can’t help feeling that he probably speaks English perfectly well and just uses the fake accent to make communication all but impossible. Which would fit in with PJ’s theory that he’s actually John Cusack researching a new role.
The communication thing is also a bit of a problem with Danny, whose thick accent (he’s a Rasta from Antigua) means I have to ask him to repeat everything he says including ‘Can I have a cup of tea please’, ‘I’m over here – having a bit of a lie down’, ‘I’ll have some of that stomach medicine you mentioned’, ‘I’m going to pick up my son now so can you close the windows upstairs’ and ‘Where’s the pear juice you bought me? I’ll take one home and leave one here for tomorrow’ at least twice. He’s a well cheeky one that Danny. But at least he sweeps up before knocking off.
Of course the communication thing between Pshamak and Danny is priceless. Neither one of them can understand the other at all, so it’s like being in the Chelsea dressing room. But at least John Terry’s shoes aren’t buried under blue plastic sheeting.”