A little victory for the Polo company.
A while ago, the people who make Polo mints brought out a promotional product called "Polo Holes", the idea being that these small mints were the bits that were stamped out of the middle.
www.cazphoto.co.uk/wp-content/blogs.dir/3/files/2008/04/D366_101.jpg
As a schoolboy at the time, I was tasked for english homework to write a letter of complaint. I chose to complain about polo holes as the definition of a hole is a cavity; nothingness so by that measure the packet should be empty. How disappointed I was to find these white things in the packet. I promised not to take the case to trading standards if they sent me a years supply. Genius. Well written letter, no harm done. Except teacher decided to mail it.

Several days pass and I receive an unexpected parcel at home. Inside was a wholesale packet of polo tubes with one noticable difference:
All the packets were empty. Yes, EMPTY! The gist of the enclosed letter basically said: Sorry for your disappointment, we'd hate to fall below your expectations again, so we've enclosed a sizeable supply of your definition of "holes". Dont eat them all at once!
(sunray18, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 18:18, 19 replies)

So your story is
You once posted a story?
(Galahad is out of his gourd on yellow bentines, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 18:06, Reply)

Some guy was posting stupidly-nested links.
So I blocked the cloody "shambolic" bunt.
Petty, yes, but I'm not going web-goose chasing again at least.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 17:53, 11 replies)

Um...you might need a sick bag


Getting more change than I should
Taking a break cos I could
Getting a seat on the train
Getting home and beating the rain

Making things work when they stop
Getting the last can of cold pop
Being the first in the queue
That upgrade, the last time I flew

Watching my football team win
that 15 foot lob to the bin
Putting on a pair of new socks
Picking the right numbered box

Getting the last battered cod
Happily knowing there's no God
Watching my baby niece smile
Sleeping a short extra while

My other half holding my hand
the last ticket, to see my best band
seeing my oldest best friend
and getting through the day in the end

The little wins that make up each day
and help me not lose my way
and make it so it's a year
since I last slipped and picked up a beer.





I am SO sorry for the unexpected burst of sappiness that just came over me.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 17:28, 5 replies)

Lots of small victories (sorry)

(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 15:14, 23 replies)

I was checking out of a hotel in France
where I was in the middle of arguing over whether they should charge me for the breakfast I had not had. Anyway, I was overruled and had to pay the 10euro, which sucked but as I turned to pick up my luggage I knocked (honestly) a 2 litre bottle of coke which had been on the counter to the floor.

The bottle hit the ground and virtually exploded, the top shot off, and coke drenched the front desk, 2 laptops, the switchboard/phone, 2 receptions staff's uniforms, the wall and happily formed a massive sticky pool on the floor.

Needless to say I made a swift exit but a nice bit of karma you hotel fuckheads. Ha.
( zulu eh?, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 14:02, 3 replies)

Not me, but..
My second-born is one of those *"so-called bloody students"*. He lets McDonalds buy him alcohol in return for flogging and making burgers, nuggets and chips.

Anyway, at the end of one shift, his till was 28p down and the manager, a rather bitchy sour-faced harridan was a bit abrupt about it and told him to be more careful. As he was clocking off, she turned away again to carry on with something else, so he stuck his tongue out at her when she wasn't looking.

* copyright Daily Mail
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 13:57, 2 replies)

I'm a triple lottery winner!
At the start of the year, me and the missus decided to have a go on the lottery each week. We are fully aware that it's a tax on the stupid, but it's a bit of fun.

We're the last of the big spenders, so we've been getting a line on the Euromillions each week and we put an extra quid each on the Lotto the week it was a triple roll-over.

So far, we've had two wins on the Euromillions and one on the Lotto.

Total amount staked so far: £14, total amount of winnings £37 (£10.40 and £16.60 on the Eruomillions and £10 on the Lotto). I maintain that £23 prfit is still better than a big kick up the arse. My wife reckons we'd be better off chucking £2 on ManYoo to win each week (I won't bet on Liverpool, it's bad luck).
(ScousersPet, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 11:14, 8 replies)

Inspired By Vagabonds Physics Teacher
I was studying A level physics at college and my lecturer was a bit of a dick. He'd be Biff Tannon and Marty's Headmasters spawn if they ever had a Back to the Future manlovechild.

He would embarrass you if you didnt understand, throw chalk for looking anywhere but at him and frequently told us that "calculators werent accurate" (something to do with they're only as accurate as the person using it, a very inane arguement after the 900th time).


We were studying wave interference and he'd built a glass tray filled with water on stilts to show us how the patterns alter. There were 2 little nodes that pulsed at different frequencies and the waves would change accordingly.

Anyways he wouldnt allow any of us near, and when i got a little too close he lobbed a bit of chalk off the back of my head. "you'll knock it you clod" was the general gyst of his chalky protest.

When the lesson ended he went to move it from the desk and it tipped off the edge, soaking him. Unable to control myself I muttered "what a clod" although loud enough for him to look up and see me walking out with a biiiiiiig grin on my face.

Clod
(Monkeystrumpet monkey. Monkey, MONKEY!!!, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 11:08, 6 replies)

wacca wacca wacca wacca

  .-.     .--.
 | OO|   / _.-' .-.   .-.  .-.   .''.  
 |   |   \  '-. '-'   '-'  '-'   '..'  
 '^^^'    '--'                         

wacca wacca wacca wacca
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 10:50, 6 replies)

Daddy's little liar
Used to work as a "Tech Guy" at PC World. Occasionally people would roll up with PCs that looked like they'd just lost a fight with an angry mob, with Bits hanging off, smashed screens, keys missing, the works. They would try to pass this damage off as a "manufacturer's fault" and covered under a standard warranty, and I would have to argue with them until they backed down.

On one such occasion, a man and his daughter arrived at my desk and produced their laptop. He opened it up in front of me and said "My daughter turned her laptop on today, and it was like this."

It didn't take long for me to ascertain the source of their distress, the screen was absolutely obliterated. It had an obvious point of impact off to one side and massive cracks spiralling away from it with the gloop underneath clearly displaced. I knew where this was going, but decided to initially play innocent and went with the response: "Oh dear, what happened to it?"

"What do you mean what happened to it?" The man snapped back, "It just happened! One day it was fine, and the next it was like this!"

I responded coolly, this was comfortable territory for me. "Unfortunately damage like this cannot simply happen for no reason. The only way something like this could occur is due to some sort of impact or force to the screen."

I noticed the daughter shifting quietly and looking very uncomfortable throughout this exchange, but the father was incensed. "What are you suggesting? What do you propose happened then!?"

"Well, a few things can cause damage such at this." This guy was really losing his composure but I would not "If the laptop is dropped and it lands on its side, often the screen will be impacted. However," I swept my eyes down to the girl who quickly looked away from me. "Looking at the location of this damage it appears that in this case the laptop was shut firmly while something was on the keyboard, pressing it into the screen."

As I said this, the girl let out a sound that can only be described as a "blub", and tears began rolling down her cheeks. Her father turned his head to look down at her and, without looking away, gathered the laptop in his arms, said "I see. Thank you for your time." and swept out of the store with her trailing behind wailing apologies at him.
(UW`, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 10:43, 10 replies)

I fell in a bucket of thumbs
And came out sucking a tit.
(Galahad is out of his gourd on yellow bentines, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 9:58, 1 reply)

"Not me, but a friend"
Not so much a 'little' victory, and indeed not even my victory, but still a tale that deserves telling I feel.

Got a call last Friday from a mate who, sounding quite sorry for himself, explained that on the previous night he had gotten right royally smashed on a combination of booze and various drugs and in a foggy haze had gambled his last £50 away on an 11 bet accumulator on Ladbrokes. Upon looking at the betting form the following morning he realized he didn't even recognise half the teams and had obviously just picked a load of random results, essentially throwing away fifty English pounds.

Got an email from him yesterday with this attached.



Alright for some!
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 9:09, 14 replies)

Alpha male and all that
A few years ago, I was out in newcastle with some friends. After a few to many drinks and no luck with the ladies, we decided it was time for a kebab.

It turned out alot of people fancied mechanically recaptured lamb meat pound into a cylinder then cooked under a heat lamp and shaved. A queue had formed, so being a polite kind of guy, I waited. By the time I got to the front, I'd been volunteered to buy a few peoples food while they got us a seat. All was well untill in walks a fellow who decided he was better then the rest of us and got to go first in the queue.

Resplendent in his finery (shitty tracksuit bottoms and umbro jumper) he barged in, pushing and shoving until he was at the counter. There was a little timib looking woman beside me, she looked frightened and upset at having been barged aside. King of the queue turned and looked at me, laughed at me and said "Get a shave mate!" (I have a small beard and moutach combo similar to Jonny Depp).

Sighing, I looked forward, thinking "Do you want to try talking to me like that again?" only I didn't think it, I said it.
"You what mate?" he asks looking supprised.
"Do you want to fucking try talking to me like that again?" I asked in a calm, surprisingly sober sounding voice. I'm not a tough guy, not a fighter, 6' tall average build and fairly camp, yet I struck fear into his polyester clad heart. "Eh, nah, your allright mate." he said before scampering off without and food.

All eyes were on me suddenly, the timid woman smiled her thanks, kebab man nodded his gratitude, I stood and slowly unclenched every muscle in my body, I couldent belive I'd gotten away with acting like the big man, in a fight, I'd have been very good at catching punches with my face, and little else, yet there I stood, like batman of the cheap take away, thugs and villains tremble at my very name, the good people sat safe and unintimidated to enjoy thier meals.

Justice 1-0 Injustice
(Mong goose, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 8:49, 18 replies)

I wanked
over a picture of Mary Whitehouse.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 8:40, 7 replies)

Twitter
I went on Twitter and couldn't figure out how to use it. So I went on an internet messageboard and acted all superior about it, saying it was pointless and narcissistic. That showed them.
(McChinaman banned, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 8:18, 5 replies)

I found a fly in a jar of fruit.
So I snapped a photo with my camera, and emailed it to the company. They asked me to mail it back to them for further inspection, and promised to cover the postage. So off I sent it, and a couple weeks went by. All of a sudden, I find this huge package in my mail. Turns out they'd sent me at least two of every item from their line...of canned fish products. Being a vegan (at my most normal bumping it up to just vegetarian, if the mood for pizza strikes me), I suppose this would be a negligible victory at best. Two years later, I'm still trying to figure out the logic that prompted that one.
( Ithyphallophobia, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 4:53, 14 replies)

I was on a fairly unprompted phone call to the ex...
...after an emotionally draining night at work, and a week of having her on my mind.

After a conversation lasting almost 2 hours she told me she wasn't really happy with her new boyfriend (clearly a rebound replacement) for a variety of reasons but the short story being...he wasn't me.

I told her I'd lost a stone in weight, changed my haircut to very positive reviews, had a fling with her old housemate after she had moved out, had saved up enough in 6 months to buy myself a car, and that I was currently free and single with a very hot "friend-with benefits" whom I could call on whenever I wanted.

Then I hung up.
( Mister B is eating an icanhazcheezburger with lmaonaise, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 2:45, 12 replies)

I work in McDonalds (yeah I know)
One particularly quiet morning a policeman came in who the previous week had arrested me on a bullshit charge. Despite my polite protestations, he continued being a dick an kept me in for the night. I hadn't even been drinking and the charge was dropped "no further actioned" after my interview. He recognised me after placing a c£15 order for breakfast, I assume for him and his chums in the station. I greeted him with sarcastic shitty comments and went of to cook his breakfast.

Now it would be no good to contaminate the food with germs filth and disease. Or spit. I'm just not that vindictive. And in all honesty, i've never seen anyone do this to any food in any McDonalds - Ever.

Instead, I disregarded all the food i had been holding, and took the extra time to prepare everything fresh. Freshly cooked eggs, sausage, bacon. Crisp tasted muffins, the works. Everything put together perfectly and with the panache required of a Jamie Oliver cookery show. Egon Ronay himself would've eaten it after watching me prepare it. The police deserve the finest food with the finest ingredients!

As it was quiet, I took the effort to go round, help bag up the order and present it in the nicest possible way to the offending officer, with a sickening smile and have a nice day! He nervously took the order and politely said thank you before departing.

I figured he'd do one of two things. He'd send the whole lot away for analysis, (with the hope of bringing another charge) or check everything and really not enjoy eating any of it.

He surprised me by binning it outside and looking back at me smiling, as if to say "I'm not falling for that one!".

No apologies for length; our sausage is burger shaped!
(sunray18, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 1:14, 18 replies)

My little programming victory...
Recently my boyfriend has been trying to teaching me programming. We've gone from VisualBasic, to C, to BwBasic, to C again, and then back to BwBasic because I love it the most.

Tonight we decided to set ourselves challenges to see what we each did. We've previously done a Body Mass Index calculator (no prizes for guessing which of us wanted to do that) so tonight we decided to do a Mad Lib story. That's where you have a story template and the player answers questions to get words to fill in the blanks with. We each of us wrote our own little programmes and swapped them, answering and comparing.

I am proud to say that my little programme had us both in fits of laughter and worked like a charm with only two errors popping up during testing! I consider this my own little victory in the programming world.

To top it off, I made my first ever batch of non-lumpy chocolate custard! Today has been a good day, oh yes!
( vix0r was not Matthew on, Tue 15 Feb 2011, 0:27, 5 replies)

I have a faulty Aeropress
My sixteen month-old Aeropress has developed some flaws on the interior surface of the chamber. I wrote to Aerobie Inc., asking if this was normal and to be expected (it was my first Aeropress, so I had no idea) or if there was a fault with it.

A helpful chap from Aerobie wrote back the next day, told me that "we consider it a defect" and offered to send me a replacement, gratis. That was nice of the company. I've bought another one for use at work.
( flake has nothing against your right leg, Mon 14 Feb 2011, 20:22, 24 replies)

~ ~ ~ ~ KAWAII! ~ ~ ~ ~
               ٩(×̯×)۶               
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Mon 14 Feb 2011, 19:29, 36 replies)

Bit off topic maybe?
As a student in my first year, I tended to dick around alot more then work. One afternoon, a friend and I decided the best use of our time and resources was to build forts and have a war. Draging our mattresses out of our rooms, we wedged them in the hall to form a wall, then used chairs and quilts for little tented shelter areas.

We then started to throw an American football at each outher, using the matress and quilts as cover. After a while with no throw from the enemy, I stuck my head up, just in time to catch the ball with my face. I was knocked to the ground and my nose was leaking blood fairly quickly. As he kneeled behind his fort pointing and laughing, my wounded pride cried out for vengeance.

Lying down, I threw the ball with all my might, going a good foot above his head, just as he began to laugh even harder, he was knocked forward with a sudden blow, the ball had hit the wall and rebounded into the back of his head, knocking him to the ground.

Not technically a win but I retained my honour and wiped that shit eating grin off his face.
(Mong goose, Mon 14 Feb 2011, 17:54, Reply)

I used to work for and after-school program in the city...
...and while most of the people who worked there were nice, one woman was bitch of biblical proportions. She was maybe 4 ft 9 (1.5 m?), fresh off the boat from India, and had a permanent scowl on her face.

She was hired as an adjunct to the main program, and had her own staff. One such staff member was a cute little blonde thing that was A) too young to legally work, and B) a really nice kid. Everybody in the program got the same lunch break, so she and I often split some food and talked. She was maybe 12 years old, but a genius with robotics. Since a lot of the children we were supposed to be teaching were around my friend's age, I took to keeping an eye on her and making sure the students didn't give her any sass.

When I wasn't in the classroom, my job was often to haul materials from one end of the building to the other. Of all the girls employed, I was the tallest and strongest, so most of the brute labor was left to me. As I was pushing a metric fuckton of legos on a rolling cart to its final destination (the computer lab), I saw my little 12 year old friend run out of the lab in tears. I asked her what was wrong, and she said that Epic Bitch was yelling nastily at her and the other robotics staff for no reason, had been doing so for 40 minutes, and intended to keep them there for another hour. I told her it would all be alright, gave her a hug, and sent her back in.

I waited till I had counted to ten, took a running start with the cart, and crashed in straight through the lab door while shouting at the top of my lungs "COMIN' THROUGH!!!!"

Epic Bitch yelped with surprise as I bashed the cart into the doorframe loudly a few times, ostensibly "adjusting" the angle of entry. I looked the Epic Bitch in the eye and said, "Oh don't mind me, carry on!".

The setup of the room was multiple rows of tables with chairs, with cabinets (my legos' destination) at the far end. As soon as Epic Bitch started talking again, I started to move the cart through the mire of chairs, making sure to bash the cart into as many chairs as possible, making a god-awful din the whole time. It wound up sounding like this:

Epic Bitch: So I— (CRASH!!) I've been disappoi— (CRASH!!!) Been disappointed in the—(CRASH!!!) Disappointed in all of you for— (CRASH!!!)...

Once I got to the cabinets, I made a big display of getting out my key, dropping my key, cursing loudly over dropping my key, wrestling with the key in the lock while cursing, and then finally opening the cabinets with a very loud BANG.

A lot of the robotics staff knew me, and they knew exactly what I was doing. Most of them were trying (and failing) to hide their laughter. Epic Bitch knew she was losing her audience and was not amused.

Epic Bitch: "Well, now that things have died down, I have to say if you don't adhere more strictly to protocol, I'll be forced to—"
(About 2,000 legos come crashing to the floor)
Me: "OH MY GOD!!! WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO DROP EVERYTHING RIGHT AT CLOSING TIME?!?! I AM SUCH A FREAKING KLUTZ!!! I'LL BE CLEANING UP LEGOS FOR ANOTHER HOUR!!!!(cursing and grumbling)"
Robotics staff: "Wait, it's closing time?"
(Robotics staff grab their things and run before Epic Bitch can get a word in edgeways.)
Me (looking at Epic Bitch sheepishly):" ...Sorry. It's been a VERY long day."
(Exit a very pissed off Epic Bitch)

I was stuck cleaning up legos for a while, but it was worth it to me to help out my friends. Apparently Epic Bitch didn't yell at them so much after that, and the whole robotics staff bought me ice cream after!
(Audienda, Mon 14 Feb 2011, 17:20, 1 reply)

12 roses: £30; Meal out: £80; Gift: £50 (all prices plucked out of the air)
The soon to be Mrs TitanLX doesn't want flowers, a meal in a restaurant, chocolates or a present for Valentines day. That's one in the eye for the greedy companies flooding the market with overpriced crap they try to force us to buy to 'prove' our love for our partners one night a year.
(TitanLX, Mon 14 Feb 2011, 17:19, 7 replies)

So I too had a cock for a physics teacher. He hated me. Well - he hated absolutely everyone, but reserved a little special bit of hate for me.
We were graded quarterly on our performance, for which one got a double plus, through to a double minus. Every quarter I got a double minus from him and despite my protestations was treated accordingly.

He was arrogant, patronising, condescending and sarcastic - you think the kids that come over from /talk to moan are bad - they're juniors compared to this guy. Asking for elaboration on any area was tacit admission of utter stupidity, and, in essence, a request to be sighed at, and then sarcastically patronised as he explained slowly, in a tired tone reserved for the the imbicilic:

"Look, Vagabond, it's perfectly simple, the intrinsic forces that rotate the subject are governed by the equation which proves the opposing forces are equal to the blah blah blah really lad WERE you dropped on the head as a child? I'd certainly be tempted to if any of my children were so willfully ignorant as you - I imagine your parents must be really quite embarassed by you (that last being a real quote) and I'll obviously be reporting this out to your housemaster at the end of today."

I hated him - too young to understand irony, too underconfident to front up to him, he genuinely started to make me feel stupid, incompetent and unworthy.

So, at the age of 18, it was with quite significant joy that I accepted his 18yo daughter buying me a pint, and inviting me back to her house, where we had a lot of very noisy sex. She stuck around for a few months, too, and we took every opportunity to have more noisy sex, including every room, the garden, and in the neighbouring field.

Which was nice.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 14 Feb 2011, 17:15, 1 reply)

Technology Teacher showdown
Pearoast from a while back - this is a long one - sorry....

I had a technology teacher at school who was an absolute cock. He took an instant dislike to me. In fact, he took an instant dislike to all the lads in the class.

This dashingly-moustachioed middle aged chap in his safety goggles and natty white coat was only interested in the attractive girls in the class, you see, who received lavish guidance and assistance in their projects, whilst he would occasionally just wander over to the table where me and my mates sat and tell us our projects were crap.

This was really frustrating to me, because being a bit of a spod, but not that great at technology, I wanted to do well and really needed quite a bit of guidance to do so. Against my principles, I decided to enlist my dad's help on my project.

My dad, you see, was not only a technology teacher, but also a massive enthusiast for anything which involved building stuff. Most of the furniture in the house when I was growing up was made by him. The porch was built by him. He is the sort of person who has a wall of tiny shelves in the garage, all arranged in exact order and meticulously labelled, so that he'll never be without the right sized screw. And he's not just some handyman-type - he was a GCSE examiner for technology, and had also had a brief apprenticeship in technical drawing when he was a lad. The man seriously considered a career designing ships....

Inevitably, invited to help out on my technology project (designing and making a bathroom organiser thing to keep your shower gels, soaps, etc. on in handy reach), he approached it like a man asked to facilitate a moon landing.

We went down the shops and purchased every variety of soap, shampoo, and shower gel, in order to take accurate weight and dimension measurements. We then designed a holder based on these dimensions, including shaping the holder in a manner which maximised the ease of removing items whilst ensuring they didn't drop out. We investigated the qualities of a selection of materials before settling on plastic as the most durable option, despite the fact that in order to make it my dad had to obtain access to a particular kind of industrial plastic and plastic moulding machine used by a bloke down the pub. Making it involved getting in the car on a Saturday and driving to a workshop on an industrial estate to use the machinery.

The coursework which accompanied the final product included detailed debriefs of every detail of the design, as well as explanatory notes on aspect such as methods of fixing to the wall, and the pros and cons of various plastic types. Not only was this all very detailed, it was checked off against the GCSE marking criteria in order to ensure it would be well-nigh impossible to award me anything less than an A*.

I submitted it. Waited for my results to come back, confident in the knowledge that even this dickhead couldn't possibly justify screwing me over this time. Eventually, the results came back....

D

My dad was, to put it mildly, fucking livid. He contacted the school and was promised the teacher would call back. Apparently, the conversation went something like this:

Dad: 'Hello, I'm Snowy's father, I'm puzzled as to how his technology project, which he spent an enormous amount of time on, only got a D?'

Teacher: 'Well, Mr Snowy, as I'm sure you'll understand, we're trying to work the children up towards their final GCSE projects, and GCSEs marks aren't awarded purely on effort but based on a strict criteria, which we're obliged to follow. I'm sorry that you feel that Snowy has worked so hard to no avail, but unfortunately, there were areas in which his project just didn't warrant higher marks, and it's only fair for me to give an accurate mark now so that he can improve in future and achieve a higher mark in his final project'

Dad: 'Oh, OK. Well, I have the Northern Examination and Assessment Board's GCSE marking criteria for technology projects (which I believe is the board you use) in front of me right now, and a copy of Snowy's project, including model, so would you mind talking me through exactly which of the criteria you felt it didn't fulfil?'

Teacher: 'Eh?'

Dad: 'Well, I think it's only fair...'

Teacher: 'You actually have the marking criteria?'

Dad: 'Yes - I do.'

Teacher: 'Erm.. tell you what, let me have a look over it again and see'

And so I got an A, which dad saw as at best a compromise, knowing full well it should have been an A*.

The irony of it all? When it did come to my final project, my Dad was too principled to help me and I was too principled to ask. and so I got... a D.

Still, it was worth it just to know that my Dad had put this pillock in his place.

And no apologies for length - there's a detailed rationale for it which my Dad will submit on request
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Mon 14 Feb 2011, 17:01, 3 replies)

No way wont be doing that
Long story short but bank mislaid a sizable cash lodgement and when questioned denied all knowledge. After a lot of searching I managed to locate the stamped receipt. I was a bit annoyed as if I hadn't found that bit of paper that was the last I would ever heard of it. I asked for a small gesture to me for my trouble and a €100 for a local charity. Following consultation with the manager they made a small gesture to me but replied "No way (laugh laugh) we wont be doing that" to the request for a charitable donation. By a coincidence I was going to be a guest speaker on a national radio station that evening. When I asked him (trying to provoke the arrogant bo*l*x) "do you know who I am?" he replied "No go on tell me" in his most sarcastic voice. I advised him to treat every customer like a VIP until he knew better and to listen in at the arranged time. He was obviously shocked to hear his and his managers name read out by me wishing them all the best, and the next day I got a groveling two page apology from the manager and a receipt for the charitable donation. Oh yes that gave me a warm feeling.
(midlifecrisis, Mon 14 Feb 2011, 17:00, 2 replies)