Me, partly responsible for someone losing there job
I’m a worrier, thinker and prolific masturbator by night, mechanical engineer by day. This involves travelling between jobs on a 12 month basis, systematically building crap constructions like prisons, schools and hospitals that should last 25 years but in reality will only last a maximum of 10 years. Not building them by myself of course, even I am not that great.

A couple of years back we were building a hospital in Daventry. In my opinion, Daventry is the single most depressing place in England, and that is some statement considering I’ve been to Wolverhampton. Everyone who lives there seems to be old and I cannot think of that place without picturing 1985 movie classic ‘Cocoon.’ It’s literally a landscaped version of a Ring and Ride Bus, and it stinks of piss.

On this particular job, my site office was situated pretty much at the end of someone’s garden. Obviously there was a fence dividing us, and our windows were frosted to prevent us stereotypical builder types from peaking at the elderly woman who lived there. When I say elderly, she was actually about 60, and she was pretty attractive for her age. Therefore a man of little to no standards like myself, definitely would.

Anyway, my office had a lock and a wireless doorbell. I didn’t know this could happen but every time the ladies doorbell rang, mine would also start ringing. Quite amusing the first couple of times it happened. Then I started to get a bit suspicious of how many times it was ringing. Being a bit of a sad twat I decided to count how many times it went off in a day. Twelve fucking times on one occasion! Who’s fucking door bell rings twelve times over the course of a day? Being an assuming type I decided that she was some sort of high class, elderly hooker during the day and respectable house wife by night. Looking back, this was a pretty horrible accusation and the situation ended a bit messy.

Anyone who has worked on building sites will appreciate you get all kinds of characters working on them. From labourers to architects you get a wide range of people. There was a kid on this job who was fucking nuts. The kind of person you say jump to he would say how high? So I told this kid about my doorbell continually ringing and that I thought the lady living there was running some kind of brothel. Like any other time I told him something he just nodded at me and smiled with enthusiasm in between his evident cocaine twitch. I thought nothing of this conversation until two police men took him away for questioning and he didn’t return to the job.

The rumour going round a few weeks later was that he had knocked on the door asking for sex and had ended up in a punch up with her old man. He obviously got the bullet for this and I’m still amazed he didn’t bring me into the situation.

It’s fair to say I felt a bit guilty afterwards but at this point I was still convinced she was running some kind of knocking shop. This was until I found out she was actually a physio, and the 8 to 12 door rings were clients.
(Sir_Digby_Chicken_Caeser [email protected], Mon 8 Dec 2008, 19:28, 1 reply)

my upstairs neighbour
has her doorbell rung at least 15 times a day. she has a large family, each of whom will visit her daily. it drives me fucking mental, they run up those stairs like a herd of elephants :(
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 20:04, closed)