Customers from Hell
The customer is always right. And yet, as 'listentomyopinion' writes, this is utter bollocks.
Tell us of the customers who were wrong, wrong, wrong but you still had to smile at (if only to take their money.)
( , Thu 4 Sep 2008, 16:42)
The customer is always right. And yet, as 'listentomyopinion' writes, this is utter bollocks.
Tell us of the customers who were wrong, wrong, wrong but you still had to smile at (if only to take their money.)
( , Thu 4 Sep 2008, 16:42)
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I went to London last night
To a b3ta bash, in Covent Garden.
I had a good time, but had to leave early, to catch my train home to Essex, but I left the pub in plenty of time, and decided to walk to my overground station, as it was a nice night, and I wanted to have a few cigarettes.
After about half an hour I found myself walking through the dark streets of Whitechapel, as a certain famous individual had, over a hundred years ago.
I stopped to light a cigarette, leaning against a shop window, lost in my thoughts, when a soft, sweet and obviously female voice caught my attention:
"Can you spare a cigarette?"
I turned around to see a stunning young lady, admittedly not wearing very much, but managing to get away with it rather well.
She was, clearly, a prostitute.
I nodded slowly and held the packet out to her, watching her dark-painted nails slowly slide out a cigarette.
I sparked up my lighter, holding it out to her, the flame revealing an innocent looking face.
I smiled to myself. She would be perfect.
I wanted none of that pointless build-up conversation, so I decided to cut straight to the chase.
"How much?"
Her eyes flicked upwards to meet my gaze.
"Fifty. Pay first."
I nodded, and passed her a few folded notes.
She smiled and held onto my hand, whispering "Follow me..."
I walked behind her, grinning to myself, nervously anticipating what was only a few minutes away.
I followed her around a corner, down an very narrow alley between two building. A few skips, no CCTV.
I wiped the sweat from my palms on my shirt, and reached into my pocket, taking out the knife that had waited there so patiently.
I quietly opened the blade, my whole body tingling as I felt the nearly silent *click* of it locking into place.
Griping the wooden handle tightly in my right hand I closed the distance between us in a few strides, before grabbing her hair, yanking her head back and slicing her throat so deeply I could feel the blade run across her neck vertebrae.
She crumpled soundlessly to the floor, and I waited for her to stop twitching.
Soon she was still, the pool of blood around her head was like a growing halo.
I sliced her open and took out the kidneys, the liver and the heart, wrapping them carefully in layers of cling-film, before putting them into my bag.
I cut out part of her left lung and tried to eat it, but it made me feel sick, she had obviously been a heavy smoker, I could taste it in her.
I took back the notes that I'd given her, along with several others. I'd not expected to profit.
I cleaned myself up, and wrote on the white-washed wall, in her blood "JACK LIVES".
I guess it's true, you could call me a customer from From Hell.
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 9:59, 17 replies)
To a b3ta bash, in Covent Garden.
I had a good time, but had to leave early, to catch my train home to Essex, but I left the pub in plenty of time, and decided to walk to my overground station, as it was a nice night, and I wanted to have a few cigarettes.
After about half an hour I found myself walking through the dark streets of Whitechapel, as a certain famous individual had, over a hundred years ago.
I stopped to light a cigarette, leaning against a shop window, lost in my thoughts, when a soft, sweet and obviously female voice caught my attention:
"Can you spare a cigarette?"
I turned around to see a stunning young lady, admittedly not wearing very much, but managing to get away with it rather well.
She was, clearly, a prostitute.
I nodded slowly and held the packet out to her, watching her dark-painted nails slowly slide out a cigarette.
I sparked up my lighter, holding it out to her, the flame revealing an innocent looking face.
I smiled to myself. She would be perfect.
I wanted none of that pointless build-up conversation, so I decided to cut straight to the chase.
"How much?"
Her eyes flicked upwards to meet my gaze.
"Fifty. Pay first."
I nodded, and passed her a few folded notes.
She smiled and held onto my hand, whispering "Follow me..."
I walked behind her, grinning to myself, nervously anticipating what was only a few minutes away.
I followed her around a corner, down an very narrow alley between two building. A few skips, no CCTV.
I wiped the sweat from my palms on my shirt, and reached into my pocket, taking out the knife that had waited there so patiently.
I quietly opened the blade, my whole body tingling as I felt the nearly silent *click* of it locking into place.
Griping the wooden handle tightly in my right hand I closed the distance between us in a few strides, before grabbing her hair, yanking her head back and slicing her throat so deeply I could feel the blade run across her neck vertebrae.
She crumpled soundlessly to the floor, and I waited for her to stop twitching.
Soon she was still, the pool of blood around her head was like a growing halo.
I sliced her open and took out the kidneys, the liver and the heart, wrapping them carefully in layers of cling-film, before putting them into my bag.
I cut out part of her left lung and tried to eat it, but it made me feel sick, she had obviously been a heavy smoker, I could taste it in her.
I took back the notes that I'd given her, along with several others. I'd not expected to profit.
I cleaned myself up, and wrote on the white-washed wall, in her blood "JACK LIVES".
I guess it's true, you could call me a customer from From Hell.
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 9:59, 17 replies)
Well...
I totally blame Johnny Depp and that guy that played Bilbo Baggins in LoTR.
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:11, closed)
I totally blame Johnny Depp and that guy that played Bilbo Baggins in LoTR.
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:11, closed)
great film
I can imagine you doing it too
you crazy bastard
let's hope the monkey rapture finishes you off before you get to Heather Graham
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:13, closed)
I can imagine you doing it too
you crazy bastard
let's hope the monkey rapture finishes you off before you get to Heather Graham
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:13, closed)
Never actually seen it.
Is it any good?
@Kaol - Ian Holm - en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ian_Holm
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:19, closed)
Is it any good?
@Kaol - Ian Holm - en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ian_Holm
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:19, closed)
Well...
I did hook the heart up to a car battery when I got home...
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:24, closed)
I did hook the heart up to a car battery when I got home...
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:24, closed)
lol, afterwards...
...did she look like the board game "Operation"?
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:27, closed)
...did she look like the board game "Operation"?
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:27, closed)
Not quite...
More like one of those people who is just the wrong distance away from a car bomb.
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:43, closed)
More like one of those people who is just the wrong distance away from a car bomb.
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 10:43, closed)
London Dungeon *Spoilers!*
I took my ex to the London Dungeon yesterday, which has a Jack the Ripper section. All throughout the tour I was being picked on for various bits (next time I'm wearing a hat!), but I wasn't fully prepared for the finale.
We were in a small pub-like set, being talked at by an actor, as various weird happenings occurred. The actor explained it was one year since the last murder.
Sure enough, the lights go out, then a strobe illuminates Jack standing right next to my ex. She's quite a panicky girl anyway, but she closes here eyes and ducks, giving Mr The Ripper only one target, the bloke grinning like a mong next to her.
Yes, Jackyboy lunged at me with his 'knife', and all I could do was say "cool!".
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 11:00, closed)
I took my ex to the London Dungeon yesterday, which has a Jack the Ripper section. All throughout the tour I was being picked on for various bits (next time I'm wearing a hat!), but I wasn't fully prepared for the finale.
We were in a small pub-like set, being talked at by an actor, as various weird happenings occurred. The actor explained it was one year since the last murder.
Sure enough, the lights go out, then a strobe illuminates Jack standing right next to my ex. She's quite a panicky girl anyway, but she closes here eyes and ducks, giving Mr The Ripper only one target, the bloke grinning like a mong next to her.
Yes, Jackyboy lunged at me with his 'knife', and all I could do was say "cool!".
( , Thu 11 Sep 2008, 11:00, closed)
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