Used to do odd electric jobs for a landlord. (As liitle as possible and only in emergencies. Knew him from this pub my parents used to frequent.) Good two decades ago. Worked in the trade for a couple of years, papers and all. He was a penny-pinching SOB. Sometimes even to a fault. Like when it's apparent that a quick fix will have expensive consequences. He seemed to have a few dudes on retainer and I only got called a few times when none of them were available. I wasn't particularly expensive, but I insisted on doing things to code. Did I mention he owned this pub? Free drinks? I went very expensive later, but that's another story. Nothing was too old, too crusty or too dilapidated for this guy to imagine it could be fixed using some tape and one or two wire nuts. Must have been the post war spirit. Also no concept at all for the hazards involved in working with mains type of voltages and currents. Still, the choice stories he told me about a few of his tenants left me bewildered. The entitlement. Unfathomable. R.I.P., Walter