Worst job I had...was working for this complete prick who owned a rinky dink 9 hole golf course in Cambridgeshire. This guy was an utter bastard- he kept his dogs in a tiny pen knee deep in their own shit, had an illegal water mains hook up and used to delight in calling me anything other than my real name. Me and my mate had our revenge for the pittance he used to pay us though- so stoned we could barely speak we ate as many of his ice creams as we could face, stole his golf balls, then resold them to his customers, knackered his shonky water hook up and somehow cut off the power to the club house! As well as throwing all of his clubhouse ashtrays into the river, hacking the Christ out of his carefully tended greens and deliberately carving up his driving range in the Heath Robinson built 'tractor' that he used for picking up the balls.
Looking back on it, it's hard to see who got the worst from the deal- still it set me up nicely for my chosen career of industrial saboteur.
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Tue 11 Nov 2003, 11:01,
archived)
Looking back on it, it's hard to see who got the worst from the deal- still it set me up nicely for my chosen career of industrial saboteur.