Brent Partridge
"Hi.. RW, business entrepeneur" is how he introduces himself.

A peculiar fellow, the bastard offspring of a late night bumfest between the two protagonists. Brent's conceit, Partridge's ineptitude.

Ego the size of a small planet, a small dicked (by his own admission ( "I don't have a very big dick" - urgh- too much info - broad brush only!) short arse with a Napoleon complex and personalised number plate. Stubborn, stupid and mean. A millionaire with a girlfiend whose parents are younger than he is (shudders).

He worked for a large American company for a while, and was fiscally bullied to such an extent that he now has a pathological desire to a) avoid taxis b) stay in cheap hotels.

He and his g/f missed the last train back from Manc on time. He got in a black cab and asked how much it was to get home - they said £25 - he usually paid £15 in a minicab. He took the hit - it was 11.30.

Sitting in the taxi, shuffling anxiously from cheek to cheek, he eyed the meter with trepidation. When it hit £15, he just couldn't stand it any longer!

"Stop the taxi! We're getting out! We'll ring a minicab"

He made his g/f get out, at midnight, in the middle of Gorton (apols if anyone lives there, but it's still rough), and rang a minicab firm...who took an hour to turn up and charged him £15... Karma's a bitch aint it?

..one year when pay rises were 'cost of living' his girlf sent articles through about how cost of living was 2.75% not the 3.5% the accountant had instructed..

...booked us on works business into a hotel in Amsterdam so cramped you could actually shower, shit and brush your teeth simultaneously. He'd been there before, with his girlf on two separate romantic occassions.

..opened all the 'youarefat'/'jimihendrixisgay' viruses that were around then denied it, even though his computer was obviously the source.

..accused me of lying in front of contractors

but is so lacking in direction that we do about an hour's work a day, have no targets, and get free petrol, mobe and car, and unlimited internet access.... hmmm should I stay or should I go now? Never work for arseholes they say... meh
(Countryslicker, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 11:54, 1 reply)

Yay Gorton!
Indeed, I do live there. And, in places, it is just the teeniest bit rough (especially in the concrete wasteland of West Gorton: I live in East Gorton, which is a bit more redbrick and nicer). The cunning double bluff, either way, is that the area has such a bad name that the streets are deserted at night: not even the muggers dare go out. Which means that you can wander around in relative safety.

Although my car windscreen was pushed through shortly after I moved in as a housewarming gift.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 12:01, closed)