Note: a 'foreigner' is a term for a job done by a tradesman 'on the side' for cash. They always turn out to be headaches for the tradesman. This poem is for my father (88) who is ill in hospital in the UK. He used to work as an electrician.
Would you do a foreigner?
Would you wire my home?
Would you mend the fuse box where
The fuses are all blown?
Do you have a cheap rate?
Remember cash I’ll pay
But you’ll have to wait for this
For days and days and days
You know that this job’s urgent
Can you come round tonight?
If you start now then trust me
Just record your hours – right?
What’s this - it really took that long
To just put in that plug?
And what’s this here – some switches?
Now this really chokes me up
I want a good job cheaply
I thought you’d have those things around
I am not made of money
And I do not like the sound
Of you saying Sunday’s difficult
To finish off the job
What’s that – you now regret your ‘yes’
And that when you begun
You didn’t like my attitude
Nor the way I called you ‘son’
I think we ought to get things straight
So stop messing me about
Those other little jobs you did
Were just you helping me out
OK – you fixed the fish tank
And the outside garden lights
And the immersion heater
And got the door bell working right
But this massive bill in front of me
For all of fifteen pounds
Is money from my pocket
And though to pay I’m bound
I was doing you a favour mate
And you should be grateful for
Some crisp pound notes put in your hand
And - like I said before
There really was not much to do
OK - the jobs were more than one
Don’t think I’m mean – but I just think
It’s a job I could have done.
David Keig
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-electrician-s-lament/
