Have you had your pole checked sir?

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Someone pounded loudly on my front door this morning before I was quite at my self. It was still dark and cold and I could see sheets of drizzle drifting through the beam of orange street lights when I opened the door. And open it I did, bleary-eyed, befuddled and perhaps 30% dressed. Before me was a man in a yellow high viz vest. In a voice that sounded like it came from the bottom of a whiskey bottle he said, before I had the chance to enquire as to the nature of his business, “I need to see your pole”. I replied “ …. “ , unable to come up with anything else. “Your pole, sir”, he said. “I need to take a look at it”. Stunned silence was still all I could come up with. “Is it ok if I check it out?” “You want to look at my pole?” I asked when I found my voice. “Yes sir, it’ll only take a moment if you let me into your back garden”. Eventually light began to shine, though faintly at first. What the man wanted was to inspect the pole in my back garden that carries electric cables to the surrounding houses. Why couldn’t he have opened with that rather than alarm me unnecessarily?