Profile for Smaug:
I am a dragon, and I live under the Lonely Mountain. Feel free to drop in for a nice chat and a cup of tea any time, just don't go stealing my treasure!
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I am a dragon, and I live under the Lonely Mountain. Feel free to drop in for a nice chat and a cup of tea any time, just don't go stealing my treasure!
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Customers from Hell
Theme park lolz
Once upon a time, when I was but a young whippersnapper who needed beer money, I worked as a ride monkey at a certain well known theme park. Said theme park shall of course remain nameless, except to say that it was located in the Staffordshire village of Alton and has a name that rhymes with Walton Bowers.
Anywho, the most popular rides on the park could take 8,000 riders per day, which is, of course, an exceptionally high number of customers, any one of whom could turn out to be a Grade-A bellend. In short, I saw hundreds of Customers From Hell. Per day. Most of the aggro would come from having to check kiddies heights, and subsequently refuse entry to little Tarquin or Julian if said rugrat was under the magic 1.4 metre mark. Every single day I worked on the entrance to a ride I would get at least 10 people whose kids had been refused entry and just couldn't comprehend that:
a) The height restrictions are there for the safety of your kids. As in, if I let your progeny onto the ride I can't guarantee that they wont die horribly and have to be scraped off some rocks with a fishslice!!!
and b) The park wasn't insured to take riders under the height restriction anyway and therefore there was absolutely no way I could be cajoled, bribed, nagged or threatened into letting little Timmy on "because it's his birthday". (Same applied to dwarves/ vertically challenged types/ little people/ Ronnie Corbett, although in fairness their frustrations were a bit easier to understand).
However, my genuine customer from hell wasn't irate about height restrictions, queue times or the extortionate entrance fee. In fact, he wasn't even angry at all...
Picture the scene, it's a baking hot summers day, the park is super busy, queues are very long, everyone on the park (staff and customers) are feeling a bit frazzled and tempers are short. I'm operating on the station platform of a very well known ride when this bloke comes up to me, mid thirties maybe, softly spoken, looks a bit peaky.
"Errr... you might want to send a cleaner up into the queue lines..." says he
"Don't worry mate", I reply, "we clean the queues at the end of every day anyway"
"Oh..." says white-faced man, opens his mouth as if to say something else, then changes his mind and takes his seat on the ride. Just then, some gobby old bird stood in the queue behind me poked me in the shoulder.
"'Scuse me mate! I got to tell you something about that guy that's just got on the ride!" she says, pointing straight at him. Peaky man squirms in his seat, but he's already strapped in, it's too late for him to go anywhere.
"What is it?" said I, at which point she leans in and recounts a tale the like of which I've never seen again.
The gist of it is, the queue was 90 minutes long, and the park operates a strict "no leaving the queue and then returning to the same spot" policy (too open to abuse, see). Old woman had been about 40 minutes into the queue, in a section of the queue area which goes up into some woods and is relatively secluded, with our white - faced chum about three people in front of her. Suddenly, he'd turned round and announced "Excuse me ladies and gentlemen... but... I have a bowel complaint and I don't want to lose my place in the queue."
Then dropped trou
Taken the top off a bin
Sat on it
And had a big, runny dump
In front of about 150 people
I think she wanted me to get him thrown out of the park, sadly her pleas fell on deaf ears as by the end of it I was laughing so hard the wee was almost running down my legs
Apologies for girth
(Tue 9th Sep 2008, 23:17, More)
Theme park lolz
Once upon a time, when I was but a young whippersnapper who needed beer money, I worked as a ride monkey at a certain well known theme park. Said theme park shall of course remain nameless, except to say that it was located in the Staffordshire village of Alton and has a name that rhymes with Walton Bowers.
Anywho, the most popular rides on the park could take 8,000 riders per day, which is, of course, an exceptionally high number of customers, any one of whom could turn out to be a Grade-A bellend. In short, I saw hundreds of Customers From Hell. Per day. Most of the aggro would come from having to check kiddies heights, and subsequently refuse entry to little Tarquin or Julian if said rugrat was under the magic 1.4 metre mark. Every single day I worked on the entrance to a ride I would get at least 10 people whose kids had been refused entry and just couldn't comprehend that:
a) The height restrictions are there for the safety of your kids. As in, if I let your progeny onto the ride I can't guarantee that they wont die horribly and have to be scraped off some rocks with a fishslice!!!
and b) The park wasn't insured to take riders under the height restriction anyway and therefore there was absolutely no way I could be cajoled, bribed, nagged or threatened into letting little Timmy on "because it's his birthday". (Same applied to dwarves/ vertically challenged types/ little people/ Ronnie Corbett, although in fairness their frustrations were a bit easier to understand).
However, my genuine customer from hell wasn't irate about height restrictions, queue times or the extortionate entrance fee. In fact, he wasn't even angry at all...
Picture the scene, it's a baking hot summers day, the park is super busy, queues are very long, everyone on the park (staff and customers) are feeling a bit frazzled and tempers are short. I'm operating on the station platform of a very well known ride when this bloke comes up to me, mid thirties maybe, softly spoken, looks a bit peaky.
"Errr... you might want to send a cleaner up into the queue lines..." says he
"Don't worry mate", I reply, "we clean the queues at the end of every day anyway"
"Oh..." says white-faced man, opens his mouth as if to say something else, then changes his mind and takes his seat on the ride. Just then, some gobby old bird stood in the queue behind me poked me in the shoulder.
"'Scuse me mate! I got to tell you something about that guy that's just got on the ride!" she says, pointing straight at him. Peaky man squirms in his seat, but he's already strapped in, it's too late for him to go anywhere.
"What is it?" said I, at which point she leans in and recounts a tale the like of which I've never seen again.
The gist of it is, the queue was 90 minutes long, and the park operates a strict "no leaving the queue and then returning to the same spot" policy (too open to abuse, see). Old woman had been about 40 minutes into the queue, in a section of the queue area which goes up into some woods and is relatively secluded, with our white - faced chum about three people in front of her. Suddenly, he'd turned round and announced "Excuse me ladies and gentlemen... but... I have a bowel complaint and I don't want to lose my place in the queue."
Then dropped trou
Taken the top off a bin
Sat on it
And had a big, runny dump
In front of about 150 people
I think she wanted me to get him thrown out of the park, sadly her pleas fell on deaf ears as by the end of it I was laughing so hard the wee was almost running down my legs
Apologies for girth
(Tue 9th Sep 2008, 23:17, More)
» The Credit Crunch
Eating all the shit at the back of the cupboard
I've been regressing to my student dayz by making horrendous meal commbinations out of all the random shit at the back of my food cupboards, purely so WM Morrison doesn't get any more of my hard earned wodge than is absolutely necessary. Pasta sauce made from Heinz mushroom soup and worcester sauce, anyone?
(Sun 25th Jan 2009, 9:06, More)
Eating all the shit at the back of the cupboard
I've been regressing to my student dayz by making horrendous meal commbinations out of all the random shit at the back of my food cupboards, purely so WM Morrison doesn't get any more of my hard earned wodge than is absolutely necessary. Pasta sauce made from Heinz mushroom soup and worcester sauce, anyone?
(Sun 25th Jan 2009, 9:06, More)
» Things we do to fit in
It's not what I do to fit in with others...
... It's what they do to fit in with me
(Sat 17th Jan 2009, 10:29, More)
It's not what I do to fit in with others...
... It's what they do to fit in with me
(Sat 17th Jan 2009, 10:29, More)
» Addicted
BlackBerryaholic
I funking love my BlackBerry. It's bloody brillieerrrnt. In fact, I'm so far gone with my addiction that I'm using it to write this post...
The first thing I do every morning is check my emails and then the following sites in the following order :-
BBC Sport
BBC News
Facebook
B3ta
Ishootporn.com
Ifyoulikeitsomuchwhydontyougolivethere.com
Its normally at this point that I realise I'm horribly late for work, but ho hum.
Not for me the poncy touchscreen banality of the iPhone or the appalling uncouthness of the Nokia N95 (gaaaahh...), give me my QWERTY keyed hetero life partner any day of the week.
(Sat 20th Dec 2008, 10:50, More)
BlackBerryaholic
I funking love my BlackBerry. It's bloody brillieerrrnt. In fact, I'm so far gone with my addiction that I'm using it to write this post...
The first thing I do every morning is check my emails and then the following sites in the following order :-
BBC Sport
BBC News
B3ta
Ishootporn.com
Ifyoulikeitsomuchwhydontyougolivethere.com
Its normally at this point that I realise I'm horribly late for work, but ho hum.
Not for me the poncy touchscreen banality of the iPhone or the appalling uncouthness of the Nokia N95 (gaaaahh...), give me my QWERTY keyed hetero life partner any day of the week.
(Sat 20th Dec 2008, 10:50, More)