Ceiling

A chain restaurant, a standard design, an even older one. If the new design has a second floor and a decorative wall on the roof, and the old one has a loft, then the really old one has no loft as such. Everything is fitted in under the ceiling. Refurbishment is under way. Our business is ventilation and air conditioning. I drove 100 km in a van (Opel Transporter), nearly falling asleep on the way with no mate along, to bring some spare parts for the ventilation system and at the same time to help lay the cable and connect the air conditioner’s control panel to the air conditioner itself. Now the panel sits in the “bureau” — an office over by the storerooms — instead of above the false ceiling, taped to a rafter and switched on “for ever.” The idiots who, when running cables, decide to cut corners and simply tie a broken cable in a knot ought to be tortured in some inventive way. Because “you switch it on and it doesn’t work.” Then you run round the whole restaurant with a tester, lifting false panels, only to discover that wonderful knot.