Sugar, sugar.
I get a bit fed up with people moaning about how shit the QOTW is every week.

But, this one really is, isn't it?

Oh well.

I will try.

During holidays from Uni, I worked in a very posh hotel in Essex (yes, such things do exist in Essex, I promise).

And I nearly choked Alan Sugar to death.


It's OK though, because he is a right canute.


The Amstrad head offices are just 5 or so miles away from said hotel, and during my first week of working there, in bowled ol' canutey bollards giving it 'the big I am' in front of his staff (I have no idea if Nick & Margaret were among them, they weren't famous way back when) Which is ironic, given he is such a squat assed bar steward.

He demanded (not asked for, not requested, but demanded) expensive wines and drinks for his table. So off I trot like a good little waiter.bar gimp and provide him with the tip top most reds and whites from the list. Then gin & tonics, beers, cocktails, soft drinks etc. All dutifully delivered to his table.

I get grunts and demands to 'put that there, no NOT there' and so on, but nary a hint of a thank you.

Finally having given him everything he wanted, I trot off back to the bar and pour myself a stiff drink, fuming at the rude old codger.

When suddenly he steams up to the bar, holding his wine glass towards me with one hand and what looked rather like a shrivelled, dripping foreskin in the other.

And slowly it dawns on me...earlier I had cut my hand on a broken glass. I was new to the job, no body had told me about the blue plastic plasters that you are supposed to use in food environments, so I'd slapped a band aid on it and carried on.


I looked at my hand. The gaping, still bloody wound across my knuckle was visible, not hidden behind the plaster.

Of course it wasn't.

Because now, my bloody, dirty band aid was being waved in my face by a furious Alan Sugar, claiming that he had just pulled it out of his beardy twat mouth after taking a swig from his glass of red wine without looking.

I did what any sane person would do. Hid my hand behind my back, Apologised profusely through barely stifled giggles.

Then blamed a waiter.

OK, so its not technically sabotage, but its as close as I've got.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 12:05, 1 reply)

and gets a click from me !
All the money in the world won't change the fact that bearded dwarf is an absolute cunt.
(TheRiddler Hmmmmm... I concur., Fri 19 Sep 2008, 14:14, closed)