Inside The Evil World Of An Irish Water Meter Installer


WE have all seen the gruesome videos. Some of us have been unlucky enough to witness what it’s like to come face-to-face with such a beast. Today, WWN will bring you deep into the heart of Ireland’s must brutal and uncaring contractors – the Irish water meter installer.

WARNING: Some of the following text maybe unsuitable for some readers.

My investigation began in May of this year after receiving an anonymous email from a man claiming to have worked for the organisation in the past. He said he wanted to get a few things off his chest and I agreed to speak to him in person.

For safety reasons, we will call him ‘Mr. Neptune’, first name ‘Poseidon’.

I arranged to meet Poseidon in a busy cafe, after all, one can’t be too careful these days, especially when it comes to dealing with Irish Water workers.

My instructions to him were to pick a table for the two of us with one chair backed to the wall. This would be my chair, so no one could sneak up from behind.

Entering, I spotted a tall black haired man facing the wall and an empty seat. I made my way to the counter to order a coffee, making sure to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Happy with my surroundings, I walked over and sat myself down. I asked him the prearragend password and he replied correctly with ‘cheesyflaps’.

Game on.

Poseidon began to tell me about his career. He began his working life as a fitter, leaving school when he was just 16.

“I wasn’t very good at school,” he said. “My father was a fitter so he took me on as an apprentice. When I qualified I made nice money for years. Then the bust happened”.

I could not help but feel sorry for Poseidon as he explained how much his mortgage cost him and how he and his family were being threatened by the bank for months.

“I was out of work with no job on the horizon. Then Irish Water advertised for meter installers. I knew the heat was on them at the time. But I was desperate and needed the money”.

Mr. Neptune then described his induction day.

“It was your fairly typical safety induction course at first. How to pick up a box and all that bollocks. Then after lunch we were sent to a self-defence class. It was very intense. We were trained how to use red barriers as shields, and shown how to dive and fake an assualt in case things got too out of hand.

“I thought nothing of it at first, then realised what I had gotten myself in for when I started the job the following day”.

Denying ongoing rumours that meter installers ritually drown puppies before every shift, Poseidon instead described his debut like a D-Day landing.

“The boss man met us at 7am to bring us to a secret location. Everything was hush hush. There were eight of us in the van. We entered some Dublin council estate around 8am. The side door of the van flew open to the screams of ‘GO GO GO’. It felt like parachuting into an abyss”.

Little did Poseidon know, but the council estate he entered was Crumlin – the front line against the war on water charges.

“Within seconds we were under fire from stones and sticks. People began spitting on us. Even children on their way to school were getting in on the action. Luckily, our training kicked in and we used the red barriers to force our way through, like Romans attacking a castle. By lunchtime there was only four of us left. We managed to install two meters in four hours. The boss man sent in more recruits at 2pm. It was a nightmare”.

Visibly upset, I asked Poseidon if he was okay.

“Sorry, it’s just these tablets I’m taking sometimes make me emotional”.

Poseidon said he served two months with the organisation before being discharged for being mentally unfit for duty.

“The doctors said I have post-dramatic stress”.

“But how am I supposed to do, sell this story?” I asked. “People are just going to feel sorry for you. You’re meant to be the enemy”.

“Well, I did push a protester once.” he added. “He was rubbing dog shit on my vest”.

“You fucking scumbag! He was probably only trying to stop you from installing a water meter outside his house,” I immediately responded, happy with my new angle.

“What kind of coward are you? Working for them shower of bastards. It’s probably best you go kill yourself right now after this interview. In fact, if you need a hand I know thousands of people who can assist you with it, you spineless piece of arse shit”.

With that, I ended the interview by throwing the frothy end of my latte over his miserable head before leaving, happy in the knowledge that my work here was done.

WWN one – Irish Water nil