A long time ago
In a county (thankfully) far, far away. Okay, Essex.

I was a Desk Monkey at a car hire place. Now this particular firm had a deal with a certain Irish airline, in that you would buy a flights & car hire inclusive package. The travel agent would give you a voucher thingy, which you gave to me, and hey presto I would give you a car. Sounds easy-peasy, hey?

However, what every single sodding travel agent would neglect to tell the customer was that they had to pay a deposit when they took the car, for fuel and accident excess. Give the car back with all bits attached and a full tank, and you get it back. Simple, eh?

'Twas even printed on the folder containing said voucher, to make it easier for the hard of thinking.

Foolproof, ja?

Naah.

Firstly, after the group cringe when we saw that one of these flights had landed, the customers first of all had to find the right desk. You know, the one with the same brightly coloured logo that is printed on your voucher, and coincidentally has people from your flight standing in front of it. So after queuing ap at the wrong desk, and now and then at the taxi desk or airport information, they would eventually get to us.

Firstly, we just hope that the cretin at the travel agent has bothered to book, and we always kept a few cars in reserve for that very real chance. About 20% of agents didn't, they just booked the flight and assumed that leprechauns did the rest.

Secondly, we pray that they've brought their licence. I really don't care if you showed it to the travel agent in frigging Paddyville Mr O'Flaherty, I can't sacrifice a gerbil to Almighty Bob and have a vision miraculously appear in front of me. No DVLA to call, of course.

Thirdly, we wait for the kick-off over the deposit. Oh, your travel agent (who coincidentally forgot to book the car) didn't tell you? Blimey, my surprise-o-meter just exploded. Why do I need one? £50 damage excess and £40 fuel deposit, Mr Customer. Yes I'm sure you have been driving for 33 years without a scratch, and I'm sure you're a man of your word, and if you're running late for your return trip you wouldn't dream of dumping the car with an empty tank and no wheel trims on the terminal forecourt causing the bomb disposal chaps to make a visit. Pay up, please. Yes you can complain, it'll be filed along with all the other ones, however I'm not getting sacked because you haven't read your paperwork.

The last and best, I promise. Been through the licence bit (luckily his wife had brought hers). Had a screaming match as the car hadn't been booked. Had another screaming match over the deposit. Had what would have been a screaming match over the non-booked child seat for their fat, ugly & ginger offspring, if I hadn't gone ta-daa! and produced one. So instead we have a scream about why we hadn't fitted their non-booked sprogseat (like we know just how fat your child is madam) into their non-booked car. Followed by a rant after I reveal that I am unable to fit it due to liability, but there are instructions attached. Have a nice day.

Three minutes later "This is INTOLERABLE" etc etc - "you've given me an automatic, I can't drive an automatic *hurls keys* you're incompetent fecking twats..."

*examines keys*

"I gave you a Seat Ibiza" *grits teeth* "sir, which is not available in automatic. However, as I cannot spend any more time arguing with you over our fleet model range, I will check in this car and give you a free upgrade to this other car..."

"fecking twat, saying I can't find a car in a car park, mutter, mutter" goes Mr Twentytoes.

New keys, time to bimble off to the car park to check. Yup, they'd ignored the rectangular plate thing with the letters and numbers on, and instead got into the first unlocked (thanks, customers) car on the line.

And then I spot them, all smiles now, and they jovially wind down the window to announce "we had the wrong car!!!!!HoHoHo"

"Hohoho" I responded, fists clenching involuntarily. "By the way, that child seat is fitted wrong, you'll need to move it as it needs a 3 point belt to be safe" (was attached by a lapbelt only)

"You fecking shite, you should have had the fecking thing fiteed, I'll report..."

"SHUT UP"

"If you have an accident with that seat as it is, your child will die or be horribly injured. I will refit the seat for you, and you will go away. Don't even say another word."

They didn't.

When they came back a week later, however.....
(osok Rebel without a clue, Fri 5 Sep 2008, 9:13, 1 reply)

Heh!
Surprise-o-meter *click*
( e.m.m.y. foxtrot uniform charlie kilo india tango, Fri 5 Sep 2008, 10:40, closed)