It’s been a while since I had double glazing installed in my flat. About 6 years, in fact. When I took the plunge, sick of mould and condensation, and also slightly concerned at the mould and condensation on my windows, the double glazing companies I rang couldn’t get their head around the fact that I was ringing them, and they weren’t having to cold call. I ended up getting three quotes, but obtaining each of them proved to be a nightmare. We had to endure 2-hour presentations on tilt and turn windows, designed to wear you down and force you to write a cheque before the bloke left the building. But we were strong. One of them brought a window along in a bag for me to look at. “Do you like the window, sir?” Yes, it’s a very nice window, you can see right through it and everything. Another one regaled us about his burgeoning career as an amateur singer. “I’m a natural, apparently, just need to learn my breathing. I’m a very aggressive singer, lots of power.” He was about 5′ 1″.

Yesterday, on behalf of the other residents of my block of flats, I showed two huge blokes from a double glazing firm into the communal area of our block, which is in a right cocking state, I have to say. 12 enormous panes of glass allow murky light and substantial heat into a very poorly decorated stairwell, and it’s a miracle that some disaffected youth in SW17 hasn’t hurled a brick through at least one of them over the last ten years, offended by the peeling woodwork and disintegrating putty that are clearly displayed to passers by. But anyway, whenever I come into contact with more than one tradesman, they always seem to provide fantastic material for a comedy sketch, or in some cases a fully-fledged sitcom. There were the brothers who replaced my boiler; one of them would keep swearing for no good reason. “If we run the f*cking pipe along there,” he’d say, “at least we’ll be able to get some f*cking purchase on it.” The other brother would be horrified. “For god’s sake stop swearing,” he’d say. “You remember what happened last time.” I wish I knew what had happened last time, but this was never revealed to me. Anyway, yesterday’s couple had a nice shtick going. They were called Tony and Mark. Mark would say “What we’ll do here is have some opaque panels running along here, instead of the glass.” Then Tony would turn to me. “Yes, Rhodri, so what Mark’s basically saying here is that we’ll have some opaque panels running along here, instead of the glass.” I just love that kind of thing, and directed most of my queries to Mark, just to experience the stereo effect. “What about ventilation, then,” I asked Mark, “could we make one of these windows openable?” “Well,” replied Mark, “What I’d suggest is that we put a smaller window at the top of these two panels, which you can open in the usual way.” Cue Tony. “So Rhodri, what’s Mark’s trying to say here is that we could put a smaller window at the top of these two panels, which you can open in the usual way.” Oh, man. I never wanted it to end. I could have gone on all morning. But they had things to do. One approximately 10 seconds behind the other. So I let them go. The quote will be in the post in a couple of days, said Mark, but what he was trying to tell me was that the quote will be in the post in a couple of days.

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News round-up: 1. Sri Lankan fast bowler Malinga took 4 wickets in 4 balls last night – first time it’s ever been done in international cricket – which cheered up an otherwise dull evening. 2. I’m becoming addicted to watching Chris Ditchburn on LiveRoulette, Sky channel 847, which I intend to explore in depth once my Radio Times blog starts. The launch has been put back to Tuesday, because they’re having a bit of a JavaScript nightmare, or something. Don’t shoot the messenger. Don’t shoot anyone, come to that. 3. I’m still enjoying Twitter. 4. My girlfriend has generously offered to take me to Brussels for the weekend. I love Brussels. But I’ve never stayed there. Any hotel tips would be most welcome.