1. Their standard greeting: "I'm up to my tonsils/eyeballs/neck etc. but . . . ". On hearing this, sucker house-owner desperate to get job done assumes attitude of gratitude, mistakenly, if briefly, viewing builder as saviour.

2. Their facial expressions, invariably consisting of "this is a disaster area. We can save it. But . . . It's going to cost you the" - I really hate this phrase - "guts of" X thousands and "you'll have to get rid of the dogs, children, all informed onlookers".

3. Their opinionated advice: "This place is in bits. Why buy such an old house? I'd knock it." Then they move in, requiring tea on an IV.

4. Their promises - as worthless as that meaningless witticism "date of completion".

5. Their imaginative methods of cigarette butt disposal - floating in the toilet, the sink, in the house plants, in your shoe, the laundry basket, the sugar bowl, among the toys, in the cat litter tray, the dog's bowl, in a neat pile on the Stanley, on the CD player etc.

6. Their self-righteousness when asked why they bother wiping their boots on the nearest oriental rug when walking dust, plaster, cement, bonding, squashed tomatoes all over the rest of the house.

7. Their defiant use of wooden kitchen chairs as step ladders while plastering.

8. Those gaping, crumbling holes, nay chasms, they make in walls and ceilings and then expect to be paid extra for filling in.

9. The way a three-day job drags into four weeks and suddenly you are paying by the day instead of the job.

10. The way builders make architects look so good by comparison; the by-now-broken house-owner begins to wrongly regard the latter as psychiatrists/counsellors. Psst, why not rent?