I go through the mental checklist I have. Showing off half his ass crack? Check. Talks with a "common" accent? Check. Slightly overweight? Check. Carrying tools? Check. Looks drunk? Check. Sharp intake of breath when first assessing the problem? Check. Wearing a sweatshirt saying "Plumber"? Check.

I wait excitedly while the plumber assess the problem. My heating is a bit dicky at the moment and I've had to call a special man to come and look at it. I am so excited about having a visitor, I have purchased some of Tesco's Finest Biscuits and some Granulated Sugar to make him some sweet tea.

"Would you like a brew and a biscuit?" I ask.

"I'm ok but I need a Richard the Third, mind if I use your bathroom?"

Being a hair-waxing, Guardian-reading, Grande-Americano-drinking Metrosexual, having to call "A Man" in to fix something is one of the two major fears I have. I am terrified that when I call "A Man" he will arrive, flick one switch and have everything working again. He would sneer at my incompetence and shake his head in a Daily-Mail-style "What is the world coming to?" way.

He would then explain in to me what I should've done. He would use easy to understand words and speak in his condescending tone which means children and women can understand him. He will leave the last remaining shred of masculinity I have in tatters, cowering somewhere between my spleen and my liver.

And charge me a £50 call out fee for the privilege.

The second fear I have is of spiders.

To try and avoid my fear, I tell him all the things I have tried. I turned the boiler off and then on again, I tried changing the temperature on the thermostat, I let it run for a day and I even bled the radiators. He seems suitably impressed. He bangs and tuts and tuts and bangs. He has been working for over 10 minutes now and, I think, this vindicates my having to call "A Man" out.

"Hmmm, its gonna need a part ordering. It'll be about three days, is that OK?" Confirming beyond doubt that he is indeed a plumber.

So three more days without heating. The Brass Monkey I keep logs on to on to yell.com and searching for Weldars.

And then welders.