» Sacked

One more but nonetheless not anymore interesting
I worked as a temp for the Inland Revenue as a data entry monkey.
2 weeks of easy training before being sent to the main compound for minimum wage, but a nice healthy speed-related pay in the main job.

On my 3rd day at the main compound, despite getting the train that was "guaranteed" to get me to work on time, it stopped for no readily apparant reason only pulling into the station five minutes before I was due to start. Being quite a decent employee in my own way, I positively sprinted the half mile to the compound and got to my computer only 30 seconds(big clock on wall to taunt you all day which they ran by) past 9am and really rather chuffed with my commitment to timekeeping(although a bit hot and sweaty from the sprint)against all odds and got on with outperforming the contracted staff who had been there for years when I was tapped on the shoulder by the floor manager.
"Hi, can you come over to my desk for a minute"
"Why certainly" My head full of dreams of being offered a fulltime contract in record time.
"You were late this morning"
"Yeah, the metro stopped for no reason and I only got to the station at 8:55, had to sprint here to get here just in time" I smiled, knowing they would be impressed that I had almost killed myself to get there on time.
"Well, you weren't here just in time, it was after 9" Said the manager with a stony expression that is made to order in the inland revenue.
"Sure, it was a few seconds past, but I was in the building before 9"
"I'm afraid we'll have to not pay you for the hour you were late" Stony face
My composure swiftly went downhill from here.
"It was 30 damn seconds? Considering I killed myself to get here when I could have taken a walk and still get docked pay I thought that would be worthy of consideration"
"Thats the rule, you were late, you can go back to work now"
I gave this due thought and wittily replied.
"Um.. No."
"Pardon?"
"I'm going home to not be paid instead"

Sorry for length, and general lack of hummus, but such is the way with the true stories, they are either hilarious or mundane with the standard lies somewhere inbetween.
(Wed 1st Mar 2006, 11:38, More)

» When animals attack...

I used to be a roleplayer
Yes, one of those cnuts who dress up in armor and run about hitting each other with fake swords.

Once upon a time, our 'party' of warriors, ubermage and assorted others boldly entered the forbidden fortress of Tremos, to confront the evil lichlord that had inhabited it.

Unfortunately our brave party were vanquished at the gates by a gaggle of geese who saw fit to guard our imaginary entrance by the lake.

They kicked our asses, we ran away.
We made up a new entrance to the fortress about half a mile away where there weren't any killer geese.
(Thu 2nd Jun 2005, 10:18, More)

» The passive-aggressive guilt trip

Passive-Aggressive? Just plain cruel
You'd think it'd be the upper generation that lays the guilt trip on, alas.. they don't, they're wonderful.

However. My 4 year old has got it down to an artform in one line.

Mini-me: Do want to play with me?

This is not an innocent question, its loaded to the hilt.
If you say Yes, you have to drop everything you're doing, and not allowed to stop or the question, "You no want to play with me anymore" accompanied by the hung head and sad face.
If you say No, he'll drop the bombshell "Are you no my friend?"
Excerpt from conversation this morning.

Son: Can we play a game?
Me: Not just now, I've just woken up and I need some coffee.
Son: You no want to play with me because you just woke up.
Me: Yeah, maybe later once I've had a coffee.
Son: So you're not my friend? You might be my friend after a coffee?

Aaarrrrrgh... I'm sure he misunderstands what the word friend means, but its... hang on... I've got to go play a board game.. I'll finish this later....
(Thu 13th Oct 2005, 11:42, More)

» Out of my depth

Seems winging it is a popular theme
One of the first jobs I applied for whilst at university to get some extra cash was at the local car accessories shop. Mainly because it was less than a minutes walk from my flat.

Dressed up in a lovely suit, sat down looking confident and happy.... rattled off how I had regularly fixed up cars as a teenager with my dad(I once watched him test the oil).
Interviewer seemed very very impressed with my attitude and abilities.

Then he asked me, quite out of the blue, "What does a clutch do and how does it work?"

........

I sat for about 30 seconds in silence before deciding to reply, "I have no idea. I'll get my coat."
(Fri 15th Oct 2004, 14:56, More)

» The Police

I've only ever had one run in with the law
and I would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for the pesky milkman.

After a heavy drinking session at the university in lancaster, I started the long walk back the the town of lancaster where I lived. Alcohol turned me into THIEF EXTRAORDINAIRE.

Actually, it turned me into a fuckwit. Wandering past the newsagent, a pile of newspapers had been delivered sitting outside. So I had myself one o'them for the morning.
Impressed with my dangerous living(and lightheaded from the cold air), I came across a rather pretty stone owl in a backgarden, and yoiiiiink it was in my pocket.
Now I was on a roll, a rampaging stroller of CRIIIIIME. I was thirsty, and I happened to note the milk had been delivered. Excellent.
I nabbed a bottle of milk and carried on my way, all in all I decided that enough was enough and I should quit while I'm ahead as a buzzing in my head turned into a slow whine.
Louder and Louder.
NYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
Suddenly a milk float came out of nowhere(well, kind of) and a wrinkly fist shot out of the cab yelling a victory shout of "Gorra!" which I think is greek for "Boo!".
I was caught! This 70 year old milkman had me by my shirt and I was trapped. I was unafraid, whats the worst that can happen for a pint of milk? On the other hand, I had a stone statue of an owl in my pocket which could conceivably be expensive. Donning my thinking cap, I sneakily chucked it under the milk float making a rather clever *clunk* *clunk* *thunk*. Yes, my evil genius mind told me, theres no way he noticed that. Evil Genius told me to offer to pay for the milk and be apologetic, surely he could see I was just a scabby drunk student who regretted his crime?
Sadly, No. With a radio message to get the police and with pointy finger treatment I was informed that milk had been gone missing along this street for almost a month and the milkman had lain in ambush(Because Milk Floats are the ambush vehicle of choice naturally). This was perhaps bad, I was now Bovine Enemy Number One, I was apparantly the Don Giovanni of black market milk. I was getting a bit worried now(I should point out I had never stolen anything in my life up to this point), and morally I had reached a crossroads. OAP Milk Vigilante had a strong grip sure enough, but a good pull or push, and perhaps I could be away. However, looking at the guy, who seemed to be a bit sepia toned already, I decided that there was at least 25% chance milk theft would be Murder 1 and I couldn't face myself.

Suddenly, Raaaaaaarrrrrrrr Lancaster Constabulary had seen fit that the Don Milkovani needed the sodding RIOT VAN treatment, metal caged van tears up and I'm handed over to the police. I'm sure I heard the milkman cackle a bit as he mentioned there was something thrown under the van.... aah bugga.

The copper manhandles me a bit, arm behind the back treatment and lobs me in the back, and I was so frightened a tiny bit of wee came out.

Off we drive... and frankly, I'm a bit of a wuss, and I'm in tears in the back, thinking I'm going off for life imprisonment, and soapy showers. We get to the police station, and I'm processed, and the contents of my coat emptied, newspaper, 8 cigarettes and a lighter.
I sit in the holding cell for about an hour first, as the officer chucks in a rather nice prostitute called Vicky(name not changed, because I'd be protecting the guilty) with me. Prostitute gets pulled out 10 minutes later, signs something, and tells them she's gagging for a ciggie. Police officer shouts over to me "Oi! Is it ok if we let vicky have one of your cigarettes!".
Thinking its not a good idea to be selfish at this point, I reply with an affirmative girly whimper and nod.
Then they gave a ciggie to a member of the nighttime admin staff for their break.
Homeless guy gets the rest of my ciggies.

2 Hours Later...after a bit of an interview(where I absolutely agreed with everything he said, whimpered some more) and fingerprints taken, nicotineless, policeman drives me around to the house where I nicked the owl and tells me to put the owl back from where I got it.
Relieved he opens the window and tells me "Now don't do this again!" and drives off... leaving me pretty much the same 4 miles away from as when I started this whole business.

I went home and passed out.

Would do a length joke, but it'd be a bit lame by now.
(Sun 25th Sep 2005, 21:00, More)