I anxiously coaxed my wife out of the door to her work trying not to raise her suspicions. My stomach was fluttering as I had an important early morning meeting.

To fully prepare, first, I chose my mask. I had two options; a flesh coloured creation that resembled a one bosom bra or a more sinister black model. I tried the pale pink mask but as it, err, masked my nose, mouth and chin, it made me resemble a burns victim who had endured time consuming and expensive reconstructive surgery which had either failed or was still ongoing.

The black one was much better; when I looked in the mirror I saw Kendo Nagasaki. I felt strong. I felt powerful.

The door-bell chimed. I opened it and was greeted by a middle aged, balding man wearing a pale blue mask and surgical gloves carrying a toolbox.

‘Good morning. it’s John isn’t it ? I know I shouldn’t really but would you like a cup of tea from a sterilised mug ?’

‘No - thanks. I’d rather just get straight down to business’.

Ah now that what’s I was hoping for; firm, dominant and to the point.

‘Do most people watch or just leave you to it ?’

‘Not bothered. You can watch as long as you’re eight feet away ?’

John got down on all fours and got on the job straightaway. There was a lot of puffing and panting.

‘Christ - this is a tight fit. Dunno how the last fella managed to fit it in this small gap’.

I said nothing. There was no answer to that.

‘Bloody hell, if you had another 2 inches on your red hot pipe, that’d help’.

Slightly rude and I was supposed to be the dominatrix here. After all, I am Kendo Nagasaki clad in the black mask.

More puffing and panting.

‘Ere, can you pass me that vaseline ? I may as well lubricate this joint while I’d down here’.

‘Here you go. I thought you looked like a doctor in the blue face mask but I didn’t think you’d have time to treat my arthritic knee’.

‘I must say - your waste outlet is pretty good considering but your cold water pipe has a kink in it’.

Was I paying £60 call-out and £30 per hour to be insulted like this ?

More puffing and expletives

‘Ere - pass us a tea towel, will you ? There’s something dripping out the end of your pipe’.

‘Ooh - sorry about that. Here you go’.

‘Nah - it’s OK. I’ve had a lot worse spilled on me in my line of work. Sort of an occupational hazard’.

‘Oh - I see’.

There was a strange vibration. Initially, I assumed the batteries in John’s sex toy, that he’d surreptitiously taken out of his toolbox, needed replacing.

‘Ere - pass me that wrench, will you ? Your front extendable leg needs adjusting slightly’.

Weird as I don’t actually have a prosthetic limb. Anywhere.

‘Right - that’s done. Now, have you got a small load you’d like to give me ?’

Another insult about the size of my manhood. I don’t understand it. This chap had excellent reviews on the Web site.

‘Do you want me to flush your U-bend while I’m down ’ere ?’

Hmm - colonic irrigation was never mentioned at any point. Would this be extra ?

There’s a stilted silence while we stare at each other, waiting for my small load to finish.

We looked at each other in an embarrassed silence. I place £60 on the table which John silently picked up. He grabbed his toolbox and went to leave.

‘OK. Thanks for coming so promptly, John’.

‘No problem. If you or the missus ever need anything doing again, just give us a ring’.

Although she didn’t know it yet, the wife had a new washing machine.