Steve
“Hey, I’ve got something to tell you” said Steve, the Contracts Manager, at the end of a site meeting. Steve had been working with us a couple of weeks, but was already sussed as a Munchausen’s Syndromer; he apparently had a Harley Davidson chopper, and promised to ride it in to work on Friday – unfortunately it got stolen on Thursday night. He used to play rugby for London Irish, but voluntarily, so never got on the listed squad. He was friends with the Chelsea team doctor, and promised to get me a signed football. To his credit, he came through on that one, albeit uninflated, all signatures in the same hand mostly indecipherable except the two names most likely to be known to the lay fan, and pristine yet easily smudged. He flew to NY for the weekend on Concord’s final flight. That sort of irrefutable shit.

“Hey, I’ve got something to tell you…, my sister was having this hot bath once and found this lump on her arm where she'd got bitten by a spider on holiday, she started sqeez....”

“Steve, STOP IT NOW!” I interrupted, surprising myself with my tone, technically (well...actually) he outranked me. “You would n’t believe how many times I’ve heard this fucking story, don’t tell me… she squeezed the lump and it burst and hundreds of baby spiders ran all over her? Mate, that story’s been going around the traps forever, I reckon I first heard it maybe 20 years ago”

He grinned and nodded emphatically “That was my sister!”

He was a useless CM to boot, and was sacked a few weeks later. Probably bluffed his way into the job in the first place.

These people actually have a mental disorder, they need help. One day questions like this will be seen as being in incredibly poor taste - I say let’s milk them for lols while we can.
(J H Christ began in Afrika ka ka ka ka, Fri 6 Jun 2014, 3:44, Reply)