Post refurbishment
The pub I worked for neglected to check whether their present power supply would be sufficient to run the new kitchen equipment, so the inch thick power cable unfortunately turned into a giant 300 amp fuse that over time, melted.

The day it actually failed was quite impressive, we had a few people in the pub, it was 11:00 in the morning and I was enjoying a nice cup of coffee after stacking barrels in the cellar.

All of a sudden the lights went out, the tills went blank and everything started to smell a little like a foundry. A quick trip to the cellar to check the circuit breaker revealed the problem at source. The huge fuck-off fuse board and connecting cable were on mother fucking fire... one quick spray of CO2 from the handily located fire extinguisher and a call to the fire brigade later we were officially in need of major work by the electricity board. Some poor cunt or cunts were going to have to sit around waiting for the bastards to turn up in almost pitch black conditions. Fortunately the duty manager had kindly told everyone to evacuate when I had got on the CB to him and told him what the fuck had happened down there, but in his strange mind he felt that meant I owed him a favour and I'd have to sit and put up with him for a few hours while waiting for the bastards with pneumatic drills to turn up.

This is where the stupidity of the public really came into play. It started almost immediately.

We had just cast two streets in the city centre into a state where electricity no longer is an option to them, we have firemen walking in and out of the building while the bar staff looked on drooling, we have the cellar access hatch open with a reasonable amount of smoke clearing out and billowing into the street and amongst all of this... idiot number one appeared.

Him "Are you open?"
Me "I'm afraid not, there's been a major electrical fault and unfortunately we're probably going to be closed for a good few days whilst the electricity board correct the matter."
Him "I assume that means the Jazz tonight will be cancelled then?"
Me "Well, unfortunately we can't really expect them to play in pitch black darkness in a pub that has a layout that really is unsafe where there is no light." followed by a polite smile and chuckle... Fucking hell...

Him "That's fucking disgraceful, I've never fucking known this place to shut, the fucking previous owners would never have done that! (They fucking would, they fucking hated doing anything and would have quite happily taken a day off or two to spend with their respective wives and mistresses!)

Fortunately before I pointed that out he turned and walked off in a huff.

I got that same fucking speech at least four times per hour, and whilst every fucking door was shut the doorbell rang almost continuously with people asking if we were open...

I remained civil, but when your inside a pub, one thing tends to occupy your time.

I drank like a fucking fish and eventually we started letting a couple of the every-day visitors in and got a little mini piss-up going. Fucking spot on, we relocated to the only bar where people could see in, if we didn't like the customer who started rapping on the window, we'd simply apologise for the closure through the letterbox and carry on drinking and having a laugh.

Fuck me, the complaints we got when the place re-opened!

Not one was about us selectively refusing access to people and getting pissed on the cellars contents, every single one was about closing with announcement to the customers.

The electricity board spent two days sorting out the supply in full view, they had major works going out all through the front of the building and according to them, people were asking them constantly if we were open.

Most of our customers were octogenarians and christ almighty, they refuse to listen to reason. Ever.
( Muns, Fri 5 Sep 2008, 1:17, Reply)