Uh-oh, incoming.

Reading Clarkson’s “Born to be riled” last night while suffering insomnia again has put me in the frame of mind to hurl some mindless verbal abuse about the place.

Never mind that I go to bed at a sensible time, thinking it’ll be fine and I’ll soon be snoring sweetly into Sharon’s ear just the way I know she likes. 2 (or sometimes more) hours later, I’m still lying there, wondering what I need to do to slip gently into unconsciousness!

Since we’re in a hotel, raiding the minibar for strong alcohol could easily become prohibitively expensive, so I settle for a bit of reading or a bit of web-surfing.

Anyway, I’m slipping away from ‘rant’ mode. Estate agents. I think you can imagine what I’m going to say, but I’ll tell you anyway. Why do they think they are somehow this ‘gatekeeper’ protecting their vendor from you, the thieving, manipulative, underhand buyer? “Oh, I don’t think my vendor would want to pursue that option”, “Hmm, that might be a bit low” - as if its their decision! Go back to your client (the one who I’m trying to deal with but you’re getting in the way of) and relay the message in your best spoken, using the same polite turns of phrase as I have, not undermining me with remarks about how they could probably hold on for another $10k - like we don’t know your game.

Alright, I’ll call a halt, mainly because I want to go home now, not cos I’m letting estate agents off the hook.

As if.