IT IS impossible to feel lonely in Oxford. Today I have been called to the telephone five times by people who want to insulate my loft, three times by agents who will reclaim the payment protection insurance I never bought and once by someone who wants to make a claim for my non-existent accident compensation.
I have increasingly testily rebuffed all these advances, especially the automated messages.
I will not have my loft insulated any more than it is. When I was inveigled into letting an agent quote for this amazing offer some time ago, I found the estimated bill for the insulation to be so much that I would need 30 years to see the financial benefit.
In particular, I do not want the disruption and dirt, discovered mice nests, disturbed baby birds and, for all I know, the eviction of the raccoon that I suspect might have taken up residence.
I do my bit for the environment by switching out lights, eating food produced on our allotment, not throwing away goods just because there is a new model on the market and generally being “careful” as my ancestors would have put it. I have made one return aeroplane trip in my life.
So I do not want my eco-conscience pestered by these telephone salespersons.
As the number of lofts left to insulate diminishes, I suspect that I will be the target of an increasing number of these calls until I am the only uninsulated loft-owner left, besieged 24/7 by these importunate agents of irritation.
By the way, if there are any “lifestyle surveyors” out there who want to waste my time offering retail opportunities, I don’t have a lifestyle.
MARTIN ROBERTS Stone Close Botley, Oxford
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