Life in the Old Dog Yet

Old people are just young people with badly fitting skin. They may be a bit more set in their ways but they are just the same as any age group really. They can be sweet, kind, bigoted, intelligent or so dim it's a wonder they get their shoes on the right feet, just like the rest of us.
We have something like three hundred customers and over one hundred staff and, with all the possible permeatations of carer and cared for it is inevitable that sometimes there is something of a personality clash. I don't know about you, dear reader, but the idea of having strangers in my house makes my toes curl and I have every sympathy with anyone who feels they would rather have hot needles in their eyes than see a particular carer coming into their house in the morning.
The problem is that carers must have work and clients must be cared for and so a balance must be maintained. Les has reached that fulcrum point where, if he doesn't stop turning carers down, we aren't going to be able to provide care for him any more. He has only been with us a few weeks and he has already placed the black spot on four carers of a nine carer team. He has come up with a variety of complaints, all of which may or may not be valid but are difficult to verify one way or the other. I am beginning to suspect that Les may not be the most...reasonable gentleman I have ever encountered.
This morning he was on the phone again but this time he had made a tactical error. He had a complaint about a worker who has been with me for years. She is no more perfect than I am, but what she is is scrupulously clean. I would go so far as to say she is bordering on obssessive compulsive about cleaning. So when Les said that she had left his dishes unwashed and his bathroom looking like the Wreck of the Hesperus I smelled a rat. I jumped in my car and paid our Les an impromptu visit so that we could discuss his concerns in person. After all, it's only good customer service isn't it? Sure enough, the bathroom was pristine and the sink was gleaming. I fixed Les with a beady eye and said "Now then Sir, whatever the issue is, it isn't Maureen's standards of cleanliness, what is really the problem?" Les blustered a bit and looked everywhere but at me and then he said. "Well, when I agreed to have the service I did think they might be a bit ...younger and prettier" There was a moment when I hovered between righteous indignation and hysterical laughter and then I firmly explained that we were here to do a job and not to be a decorative interlude in his morning. I finally lost the battle with my giggles when he, unabashed, looked me up and down and said with a sniff "Just as bloody well!"