I used to work in a supermarket, the usual thing.But I had one terrible job which I was the only person 'trusted' to do. Every few days I had to count and dispose of all the out of date milk that couldn't be sold.
We couldn't put it in with the normal rubbish in the skip for some reason. It had to be poured down the sink. By now the milk wasn't liquid; it was lumpy cottage cheese in a syrup of almost-clear yellowish fluid. And it stank.
Oh the hours I spent trying to force that stinky white cheese down a plug hole, jabbing it down with the same knife we used to slice turnips. I felt like retching constantly. Then after a few months of this, some kind manager said that the clotted milk was blocking up the drains and we could bin it after all. Ahh, happiness.
(,
Tue 11 Nov 2003, 20:46,
archived)
We couldn't put it in with the normal rubbish in the skip for some reason. It had to be poured down the sink. By now the milk wasn't liquid; it was lumpy cottage cheese in a syrup of almost-clear yellowish fluid. And it stank.
Oh the hours I spent trying to force that stinky white cheese down a plug hole, jabbing it down with the same knife we used to slice turnips. I felt like retching constantly. Then after a few months of this, some kind manager said that the clotted milk was blocking up the drains and we could bin it after all. Ahh, happiness.