Saturday, 21 February 2015

If It Aint Broke Don't Fix It

When these blocks of flats that I live in were built back in the early 60s they installed the lovely old style lifts.  The type where only three sides are closed in and the front has two doors both of which have to manually be opened and shut.  The inner door being a concertina metal affair which one can see out of at all times, and the outer door being almost solid but with a small window at eye level.

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The association company that own the flats, in their wisdom and I should imagine at great expense, decided to upgrade our lifts to more modern ones.

We have had to put up with a lot of mess, a lot of noise, and the inconvenience of having a temporary chair lift for use for those that simply can't make the stairs, for many weeks.

Four days ago the new lift was finally operational and in working order.  The chair lift at this time still remains.  This is because the company that supplies the chair lift is not the same company that installs the lifts.

Four days ago I used the new lift for the first time to carry down a large heavy bag of rubbish to take to the bins.

The new lift is far smaller than the old. Only 3 persons allowed instead of the usual 4 and hardly any room to turn around.  The whole thing is completely closed in once the door is shut and being hardly bigger than a coffin standing on it's head makes for a very claustrophobic feeling, even for those of us that don't feel uncomfortable in small spaces.

It moves so slowly that one could virtually make a cup of tea while waiting for it to arrive from the ground floor and when actually inside it because of the snails pace at which it moves one feels as if it's not actually working.  I stood there wondering if it was moving or if it had broken down.

On top of this those of us on the top floor also have to have this monstrosity of a piece of equipment stuck to the side that works the lift itself. When the lift is in operation the noise from this thing can be heard from inside our apartments.  I really pity the woman that lives dead opposite it and the woman who's rooms it backs on to.

But hey ho, one has to move with the times.  So I just thanked my lucky stars that I only have to use the thing on rare occasions as I am one for walking up and down the stairs at all times unless I have something heavy to carry.  And at least we had a lift once again and the nuisance of a chair lift will soon be no more.

That is until three evenings ago when I came home after visiting my Daughter at 9.30pm with 5 bags of shopping, a bag full of items that my dog needs when I go visiting, and of course the dog himself.

On driving up to my block there was no parking spaces for my Daughter to park.  So I said no worries, double park and I will make two journeys to get the shopping etc, to the lift and once there I can make it upstairs by myself.  She waited while I made the two journeys and then got back to the car to get the dog from where he had been sitting on her lap.  I then waved her goodbye.

Getting back inside I pushed the button for the lift, and to my horror it didn't come.  It was broken.  Less than 24 hours after being tried and tested, it was buggered. 

I now have 6 heavy bags and a dog, along with carpal tunnel in both arms, to drag up 2 flights of stairs.  Plus adding insult to injury I have to struggle passed a chair lift that is taking up a good 50% of the stairway space.  But, not to worry too much, perhaps I can use the chair lift to carry myself with bags piled on top of me, up the stairs.

I released Louie from his lead so that he could freely walk up by himself, not caring a jot at that point if he came face to face with the other dog that lives on my floor and started trouble.  In my state of mind at that point I was too peed off to worry about my Louie and Max coming face to face.  Although I was conscious of it not being Max's time for going out for a pee.

I sat on the chair lift, and pushed, pulled and struggled to get all the bags onto my lap, and with a spare finger pushed the lever to get the chair lift working.  Nothing!  the chair lift didn't move.  By now I wanted to cry, or at least hit someone.  I was not happy.

I then had to struggle off the chair lift, putting the bags once more on the floor, so that I could push the stair lift arms, seat, and foot stall into the upright position in order to be able to get passed it.

Louie was waiting for me and watching all this struggling going on from the top of the first run of stairs.  I picked up the bags, and hauled my way to the top with arms feeling as if they were being pulled out of my sockets and legs giving way beneath me.  If I had had breath I would have been screaming with fury.  By the time I arrived at the top my heart was bursting with the strain and I thought I was about to have a heart attack.

We are now on day four and still the lift isn't working.  Seemingly it was reported before I even discovered it out of order and yet no one has been to fix it.  The mood in this block is not good.  No one is happy about being enclosed in such a small space without being able to view out.  No one is happy about the snails pace the lift moves, and certainly everyone is angered that after all the noise and the mess we still don't have a working lift.