The meter in question, m’lud, is the little box which sits in a cupboard recording how much electrical energy we have to pay for. The black box works very closely with its good friend, who goes by the name of ‘circuit breaker’, can’t remember the Italian and can’t be bothered to dig out the dictionary. I do apologise if you had an inexplicable desire to know how to say circuit breaker in Italian. OK, found it ‘salvavita’, the dictionary was only at arms length, but I’m scribbling in gloom. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the two little boxes which connive to make life a little more challenging.
How exactly do they go about doing this? Well, they wait, silently and very patiently for just the right inconvenient moment. Then what do they do? You may well ask. The little darlings impose a lovely little impromptu power cut on the unsuspecting unfortunates who inhabit this appartment. Namely, us.
I have yet to work out the exact combination required to cause the circuit breaker to get all intolerant, but I am sure that its actions are based on some incredibly complex algorithm developed by phenomenally intelligent high browed types, who got passed over by CERN and ended up working for the local electricity board.
Stop reading, start speaking
Stop translating in your head and start speaking Italian for real with the only audio course that prompt you to speak.
Suffice it to say that the dear accomplices seem to randomly decide, or so it would seem, when to impose a power cut. One is rather reluctant to admit that one’s yearning for a humble cup of Nescafè may possibly have been to blame for one (er, some, Oh all right, most) of these wildcat blackouts, but on occasion one’s capacity to make a mental note of just which electrical appliances are doing their washing, dishwashing, baking and/or toasting stuff, just before one goes and innocently flicks the little switch on the kettle, sometimes fails one.
Having a cup of coffee did once seem to be such an innocent pleasure.
Of course, I have been advised, one can pay for the privilege of paying more for one’s electricity. For the inconsequential sum of 183 Euros, one can ask the electricity board to upgrade the complex algorithm to one which permits making a cup of coffee while one is carrying out other normal daily tasks. However, one is not sure one is quite ready for such overt freedom. Would take all the fun out of making a cup of coffee, wouldn’t it?
Right, I’m off to make a cup of coffee. Boy, what a risk-taker I am. Who needs extreme sports?
