Soapy Norris
Re: Comet fridge adventure...

I used to work for Comet - i can tell you that this employer supplies exactly zero training on product specification, so its not necessarily the sales person's fault he didn't know the difference. There is, however, always the chance that he was a cunt, though.

The similar spec but different pricing probably indicates that the cheaper was either a discontinued model or an exclusive model to Comet.

The trick is to do your own research and avoid high-street and/or retail park shops wherever possible.
(Cheredenine - Git orf moi laaaaand..., Mon 16 May 2005, 23:37, Reply)

Lowe's Home Improvement Whorehouse, I Mean, Warehouse
My house needed new windows. I found it would be a relatively easy task to replace the windows by myself. I get the measurements, and head on over to the nearest Lowe's, roughly 30 miles away.

The guy tries to convince me that I cannot possibly do the job myself, and I need to pay them $90 per window (close to what the windows cost each) to have them do it. I tell him I know what I'm doing and he keeps quizzing me with irrelevant questions about window replacement (I hate contractors!) trying to confuse me and get me to buy the installation. On another occaision, I saw this same guy taking off his smock and avoiding customers while working.

Anyway, I place the order for the windows, specifying the energy saving Low-E film and argon-filled double panes (at about $30 extra per window, of course). The windows went in quick and simple, like I knew they would. Removing the labels off the windows, I see "clear-air-clear" on the labels, which I'm told at the store means no low-E film and no argon filled panes. Being a weekend, they are not able to do anything, and could I please come back during the week? (wtf?) Getting nowhere with these flatliners, I come back in the week. The guy from before is there, and he wants me to take the windows out and bring them back to the store (leaving my house without windows for six weeks). I tell him that if he just refunds me the difference, I'd go home happy.

For 90 minutes (!) I stood there while he tried to figure out the refund. He rang it at least three times, getting a different answer each time, and starting over. How hard can it be? The manager came and helped, but still got nowhere. Then we had to go to the front of the store and get my money, at which point they charged me for the delivery again. By this time the manager and the numbnuts and myself were getting so frustrated I left (after a few words) and wrote a nasty letter to the head office, bypassing the store completely. I got a nice, if paniced, call a few days later saying that yes, they owed me some money and where would I like it sent? So a happy ending, but what a bunch of idiots.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Mon 16 May 2005, 22:26, Reply)

Re Walt Disnae
There's a reason they call it "Mauschwitz" behind the Director's backs....
(AlohasRyk, Mon 16 May 2005, 22:22, Reply)

Bing sings but Walt disnae
Quite a few years ago we were taking our two young kids to the yewessay for a medical conference. Our son has a rare life threatening and life limiting condition. There are only two kids in Scotland with this syndrome.
We asked Walt's fun park six months before we travelled if they would waive son's entry fee for a five day pass - which we would donate to said syndrome charity. This is because his disabilities are so profound, blind, epileptic, autistic, kidney failure, doubly incontinent, non verbal etc etc, he could not see or enjoy any of the rides. All we would be doing is wheeling him round the parks while our daughter enjoyed the rides etc. We bought passes for ourselves and daughter.
Why spend £70 or whatever it was on a child who patently could not get any use out of the parks?

They replied a week before we went saying he could only get in for free if we could produce a letter from his consultants expressing that it was his dying wish to see M Mouse. His favourite toy at the time was a margarine lid, I kid you not.

After a protracted and public argument with the ticket folk at the park they agreed, no deigned, to give us a complimentary one day family pass as we hadn't even entertained the idea of bothering his doctors with such an inane request. The deep irony is that the family pass cost more than it would have to just let him in for the five days.

I still hate those fuckers.
(Serendipity Long time, No see., Mon 16 May 2005, 21:09, Reply)

I'm a student and as a rule we generally
get paid fcuk all. I've got a job at
scummerfield where I work as a kiosk girl (which type of cancer would you like?) But the under 18's get paid (if its possible) an even more appalling wage, and have to sit on checkouts (that don't tend to work very often). Everything is more than their jobsworth, and as a kiosk person I'm responsible for them, so if they get shitty I have to deal with them. My favourite checkoutters would be:
(1) The girl who pretends to be dumb so she doesn't have to talk to customers. She generally grunts at them.
(2) The cow who buzzes the kiosk, asks you to walk down to her, then when you get to her checkout, says 'Oh, I thought you needed the exercise'
(3) The golden oldie's who are there for post retirement cash.One in particular takes great pleasure in converting modern currency to old day shillings. It confuses all the customers, and they come up and complain about the cashier giving them 'old coins'.
and finally (4) The *i'm too good for this place* bint. She's 16 and daddy made her get a weekend job, which she believes to be far beneath her. She asks for gloves when handling change because of the *bacteria*, she refuses to sit on the checkout seats because they *look dirty* (so we put a bag over it, classy) and finally, the best, she has before commented if people buy the *value* goods (9p lemonade etc) about how she would hate to be that poor. She got lamped with a sunday newspaper once (they're heavy!), so she doesnt do that anymore.

I'm female so I can't comment on girth. But if I was male the length I'd be impressed with.
( demondethe, Mon 16 May 2005, 21:06, Reply)

Grrrr
Had a stupid drama teacher for 5 years twunt of a man when ever any of us did a performance he would yell "NO REACTION, NO REACTION" pissed us all right of so we stole his 12 year old tambarine (aint got a clue how to spell it buts its the musical instrument thingy) yeah so we took it and spray painted the bloody thing bright pink!!! Oh yeah he's homophobic to stupid man but spraypainting it made me happy so all's gud....
(Bhougal...hang me upside down from a banana tree and call me BERTTIE BHOUGAL>>>Oh Yeah...!!, Mon 16 May 2005, 21:02, Reply)

fecking jobsworth
IF ANY OF YOU JOBSWORTH MUTHA LUVAS.....
ever refuse any of my Scottish bank notes I will rip out your southern heart AND SHOW YOU HOW BLACK IT IS, YOU TORY.

Sorry.....
Its just that our oil revenue is good enough to fund all of Londons infrastructure development but we have to look like spacktards when some one says "Oi Jock, you're 'aving a larf? This is monopoly money, Guvn'r.!"
( Fire & Forget it's the only way to be sure, Mon 16 May 2005, 19:22, Reply)

I was once asked for ID to cash a Giro
and had none, so was told, sorry, no ID, no money. Madam. Yes, I am sure you have cashed your Giro without ID every fortnight for three months, but the rule from today onwards is that ID is necessary.

So I went to the library and used the Giro to open a membership, then took the library card over to the Post Office to use as ID, where it wasn't even asked for. Bastards.

Anoyher time I was asked for ID and had none, so I went outside, borrowed a ballpen, wrote my name inside my shoulder bag, went back in, chose a different clerk and this time offered the bag as proof of ID and was paid up.

This was probably evidence less of jobsworthiness than of a policy to harass benefit scroungers. They were still bastards.
(A kind of wild justice, Mon 16 May 2005, 19:04, Reply)

I was once ripped off
by a 'friend' who altered a cheque which I kindly cashed for her, and was nearly arrested for fraud. Luckily I was out when the plod rolled up and the ex managed to persuade them that I didn't know anything about it.

But every time I susbsequently attempted a transaction at that particular building society, the cashier would glance at their screen, then at me, mutter an apology and go off to consult their supervisor, after which the two of them would stand looking at me and whispering for five minutes before the cashier would return and process my request, looking at me as if I were wearing a stocking mask and carrying a sawn-off. By this time I must have appeared quite frighteningly angry. It was a relief all round to close the account.
(A kind of wild justice, Mon 16 May 2005, 18:36, Reply)

Sourpuss at lemonade stand
At a county fair several years ago, got in line for fresh squeezed lemonade. This guy had no sense of humor at all.

Me: "Lemonade, shaken, not stirred."

Sourpuss: "We only make it one way, sorry."

Me, speechless: "Okay, make it that way, then."

As he's crushing the lemon in a large glass tumbler, the glass cracks and splinters fall in.

Me, in a voice sufficiently haughty to convey humor: "Oh, I'm not going to want THAT one!"

Sourpuss, paniced: "I wasn't gonna make you take it!"

Some people are hopeless.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Mon 16 May 2005, 18:15, Reply)

Obligatory Post
I got the sack from my job as a Bus Driver for Stagecoach because I let somebody get off 10 yards from a bus stop and let him off the 1 penny he was short of the fare so I got a job as an Ice Cream Van Driver. My first customer tried to pay me with a Scottish £10 note and I told him it wasn't legal tender. He would't believe me so I switched on the music to tell him that I had run out of ice cream.
( Amos E Wolfe makes vinyl signs and things like that, Mon 16 May 2005, 18:01, Reply)

South West Trains
Valentine's Day this year, I have been out for a very nice time in London and we're heading back out to my house in the suburbs. We board a train at Waterloo taking us in the right direction and sit down. The departures board states simply that the train is going to the right place and stopping at my station. Fine.

The ticket inspector bloke had already been along, checked our tickets (which state clearly where we're getting off) and wandered off seeming happy enough. About 10 seconds before we pull into our station he announces over the tannoy that the train is two coaches too long for the next station and passengers in the last two carriages should move up the train to alight. Guess where we are sitting? That's right! The final carriage, in fact in the last row of seats.

Well we moved as fast as we could, struggling between the misaligned seats and through those stupidly slow automatic connecting doors, arriving at the first accessible door to the outside world as the guard stood next to it is pushing the button to set the train off. He won't stop it for us, instead preferring to lecture me on the importance of checking the length of the train before boarding (and ignoring my protestations that he KNEW we'd be getting off here as he'd checked my ticket).

The next station up the line is only 2 minutes away by train though. Or 20 minutes walk. In the cold. Through a dodgy estate. How romantic.
( naeonlite, Mon 16 May 2005, 17:53, Reply)

Railway Jobsworth part 3...
Contrary to this post the National Conditions of Carriage - which you must agree to before buying a ticket or getting on a train - says that buying a ticket does not entitle you to a seat. If there are no seats in standard class and you have a standard class ticket, you are not entitled to sit in first class. Of course if you ask the guard politely he might let you but it is a privilege not a right.

See: www.nationalrail.co.uk/conditions.htm#j

Technically your ticket doesn't even entitle you to travel on a train. This is why Virgin Trains and the like can get away with putting on a 3-hour bus "service" every Sunday to replace the 1 hour train journey.
( Amos E Wolfe makes vinyl signs and things like that, Mon 16 May 2005, 17:53, Reply)

Blood
on the floor looks bad.
Working as a hospital care assistant and looking after a dying patient, I noticed a large patch of dried blood on the floor next to her bed. Horrified, I went to clean it up. The staff nurse stopped me. 'We don't mop up, that's the domestic's job.'

So I fetched the domestic, who said, 'It's body fluids. That's a nursing staff job.'
When I asked for a mop to use to clean it up I was told 'No, you're not using mine for that.'

I went back to the sister and explained the problem, and she said 'No, you're not mopping up, we're far too busy.'
I spent longer arguing about it than it would have taken to clean it up myself.

When the dying lady's family turned up, I heard them discuss the shocking stain. One said, 'How disgusting, as if they couldn't make the effort to clean that up.' Another said, 'This place is filthy and nobody cares.' The worst was the granddaughter, who looked with horror from the stain to her gran and back again and said nothing.

And guess who was loudly ordered to clean it up, when they formally complained, as if it'd been my fault all along. Bastards.
(A kind of wild justice, Mon 16 May 2005, 17:52, Reply)

Fluent in Cuntishness
The greasy arseholes at B******* won’t extend my overdraft for the petty reason that 'You have consistently been over your overdraft limit in the last 6 months'. Well call me a quim, but isn’t that their twatting fault for not increasing my limit as requested? I mean come on for fuck sake! Cut me some slack. Anyway, now I have to go out for a fistful of crème de menthe chasers and suffer the indignity of lashing them on my Barclaycard. Awkward jobsworth cunts.
(Stocksie, Mon 16 May 2005, 17:42, Reply)

Mobile Phone proofs
I sell mobile phones for a living, and take enormous pleasure in denying JUST out of date proofs required for contracts (gas bills, bank statements etc).

The same goes for people JUST outside the 28 faulty exchange window for broken phones. We can do it if we want to, i just enjoy being a bastard sometimes.
(bazmataz, Mon 16 May 2005, 17:35, Reply)

Hardware store
I was redoing my bathroom cabinets and needed some hinges. I brought the old brass ones to a local hardware store where a friend of mine works to order some chrome ones. He found the ones I needed in a catalog and assured me that they would be in within 5 business days.

10 days later, no call from my friend yet. I stop in to the store and my friend tells me that he hasn't placed the order yet. "Why?" I asked, confused.

"Because the company doesn't take phone orders, we'd have to fax it in."

"So why didn't you fax it in?"

Get this: "Because Ms. Diane will fuss at me if I use any paper to place an order."

If a second friend hadn't shown up and said that he'd handle Ms. Diane, I would have taken my $40 elsewhere. The hinges arrived within 5 business days.

What kind of Ms. Diane will lose $40 in business over a piece of plain paper? And what kind of jobsworth will lose $40 in business for his store over a piece of paper? I love to tell that story to boost the business of their competitors.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Mon 16 May 2005, 17:33, Reply)

Hospital Jobsworths pt. 2
Hospital visitation policy: no children under 11 allowed before 1 pm, unless they have a new brother or sister. Pretty simple, huh? It caused more problems than anything else.

Volunteering writing visitor badges, I had to be the bad guy to enforce this policy. At least once per shift, someone would get huffy and challenge the policy. "Oh, this must be a new thing." "No, this has been policy since before I started here." I would then be told (as if I were a simpleton) to get on my little phone and call the nurse's station and see if that was really the policy. Of course, the nurse's station would tell me to send the little sweeties up. Which would get me condescending smiles from the visitors. On the last day I worked (the same day of the broken vase in another post), it happened again 30 minutes later, at which time I was told by the nurses NO KIDS UNDER 11!! and that I couldn't keep calling up there everytime a kid showed up, but *deep sigh* go ahead and send them up anyway.

Some satisfaction, though, the head nurse walked past my visitor station and I grilled her about it. We either have a policy or we do not, and I'm tired of being the bad guy. Now back me up on the policy you gave me to uphold. She hemmed and hawwed. Enough of this. I got better ways to spend my Saturday mornings.

Hospitals are nothing but hotbeds of ego and nurse's social clubs. They're not about the patient anymore. I don't miss working there at all.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Mon 16 May 2005, 17:10, Reply)

Catharsis
Not funny, or particularly interesting. In fact, I recommend that you skip this one and go on to the next, I'm only writing to offload some petty pent up fury.

Still here? Oh, ok then, if you insist (sigh)

Went to Comet to buy a new fridge recently, and saw two similar models - for argument's sake let's call them the Supafrost 25 and the Supafrost 35. Couldn't see any difference between them, so asked the sales guy to assist. Now he wasn't young, or in the least bit chavvy, and I was astonished as the following unfolded -

Me: "What's the difference between the Supafrost 25 and the Supafrost 35?"
Monkey: "Well the 35 is £350 and the 25 is £325"
Me: "I see that, perhaps you could explain the difference between the models which would account for the difference in price?"
Monkey: "Well, that one is £25 more expensive"
Me: "Yes, we have established that, could you tell me what features cause it to be more expensive?"
Monkey: "Because it's a different model."

I could go on, but just read the above through again about another three times and you'll get the picture.

Me: "Oh for.... Okay. It is clear that you do not know what the difference is. Could you please do me a favour and find out, or perhaps ask somebody who does know?"
Monkey: "Look it's quite simple, they are different models"
Me: "Fuck ME!! You are a fucking prick, I'm going somewhere where they employ people who aren't fucking retards"
Monkey (following me towards the door): "How dare you, there's no need to make it personal!"
Me: "Fuck off, you fucking sack of shit"

Now, that feels a lot better. Although to be frank with hindsight I don't feel that anybody emerges from this story in a particularly favourable light.
(Ali Bongo 9000 Ali Bongo 9000, Mon 16 May 2005, 17:10, Reply)

Hospital staff jobsworths
Out of the goodness of my heart (and had nothing to do with compulsory community service and restitution), I used to volunteer at the local hospital on Saturday mornings issuing visitor badges.

One gentleman was wheeling a cart of flowers out to the car as his wife was going home. Not two feet out the door, a (very nice) crystal vase falls of the cart and shatters into a million pieces. I call custodial to have it cleaned up. We don't need visitors becoming patients.

The custodian shows up, and asks where the glass is. I point it out to her, and she says (quote): "Oh, it's outside, I can't clean it up, you'll have to get maintenance." At which point she leaves and won't even consider cleaning it up.

I call maintenance, no answer. Call switchboard, maintenance isn't there on Saturdays, they are on call. Call is placed to a beeper. After 20 minutes, I get a call from a very sleepy maintenance that it's not their job to clean stuff up, unless it's a broken window or something. This was a vase, so call custodial, at which point he hangs up and doesn't answer his phone again.

Meanwhile, visitors are having to wade through broken glass. I went out and got the larger shards cleaned up, but it occured to me that there is no reason to risk myself when a HOSPITAL should have people on staff for just such occaisions.

This was the last day of a three year hospital volunteer career. Between events like this and a long list of other complaints, I have lost all respect for hospitals and the medical field in general.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Mon 16 May 2005, 16:55, Reply)

saw a woman
getting turned away from the five items or less lane in tescos 'cause she had a paper and 6 rolls. long argument ensued, the woman behind the counter seemed to think there would be general anarchy if she allowed this kind of nonesense. needless to say i stood there pissing myself laughing.

if i ever have to work in tescos (god forbid) i'm going to take that kind of action. years ago when i worked in a theme park i used to delight in turning away children from rides cause they where a few centimeters too small, then hope they'd start crying.
(charlie mouse - caught in a trap, not turning back....., Mon 16 May 2005, 16:48, Reply)

Bus Driver
Arrived in my home town of Chesterfield (the town with the wonky spire) at the train station and proceeded to walk to the bus stop in the town centre. Was running a bit late for the scheduled time of bus departure, and sure enough the bus was sat waiting at the traffic lights, ready to leave.

So I look at the driver to see if he'll let me on, but he won't. Fair enough I thinks, since the lights were just about to change and he was sat in traffic.

The bus has to go the long way round to the next stop, so, carrying an enormous and heavy piece of luggage, I decide to run down to the bottom of town to catch the same bus.
Gets there, to find the bus waiting for me in the bus stop. The driver puts on his indicator and begins to edge out into the road where there is a massive queue of traffic through town.

Absolutely knackered, I finally get to the bus, of which, 98% of it is still situated in the bus stop, and knock on the door for the driver to let me on. Knowing that I've just legged it through town, with a massive bag on my shoulder, he just shakes his head and turns away.

I could not beleive it. What a cunt. And he was the sort of cunt who won't turn to face you even though you want his attention for an explanation.

So what I decide to do is walk to the next stop about 400 yards on, knowing it'll probably take the bus about 5 minutes to get there and flag it down.

The bus rolls up and opens the door. I decide to wipe the little grin off the smug driver's face. I stand on the first step, look at him and ask why he wouldn't let me on since he was sat in the bus stop. Before he can answer I just completely abuse him and say that I don't want to catch his bus now, and I'd rather walk home than travel with a complete and utter cock.

I get three quarters of the way home before he finally passes me, at which point I stick two fingers up at him and mouth the word cunt.

He was not pleased. Fucking jobsworth.
(Roy Horn, Mon 16 May 2005, 16:44, Reply)

Application rejected by the police? No problem, become a security guard instead
I have worked in the same building, with the same receptionists and the same security guards for the last eight years. Now, this being a non-smoking building means that I have to go outside for a smoke. Which I do. Almost every hour. So I walk back inside the building and realise I have left my security pass on my desk. Thinking no problem, Mr. Friendly Security Man knows me I nonchalantly stroll past him and say hi. "Sorry Mr. X, you need to show me your pass". "But I left it upstairs, anyway you know me well enough by now". "Yes I do, but sorry Mr. X, you need to get a temporary one made at reception. I can't let you in otherwise, more than my jobs worth". The hairy ring then shows me the direction or reception (I have worked here long enough you doughnut, I know where the pissing reception desk is). At reception "hi can I get a temporary pass please". "sure Mr X, who are you seeing?" "err, me". "Oh, I need someone from your company to endorse it". "But you know me". "Yes I do, but how do I know you haven't been sacked". "??????" ............ what is the point I ask you !!
(chosen_one, Mon 16 May 2005, 16:35, Reply)

City workers
I bought a house a couple years ago. I called the city:

Me: "Yes, what day do you pick up the trash?"

Dumbo Southern Belle Jobsworth: "Same day we get y'all's garbage."

Oh, it hurts, it hurts....
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Mon 16 May 2005, 16:33, Reply)

Domino's pizza
More of a pedant/robot than a jobsworth but.......

Well, six pints the worse one Friday afternoon, pick up the phone and dial Domino's Macclesfield branch.

Buffoon, for that is what it should read on his name tag, answers....

Buffoon: "Hello Domino's"
Me:" Hello, can I order a cheesey garlic bread and a large pizza with ham, onions and spicy beef?"
Buffoon:"No we're shut."
Me:" Why did you pick up the phone?"
Buffon:"I have to."
Me: "You cock."

I put the phone down and, 10 seconds later the chimp is on the phone again.
Buffoon: "Did you just call me a cock?"
Me: "Yes."
Buffoon: "Why don't you come down here and tell me to my face?"

OK, sez I, the primate not realising I am drinking with Phil the body builder in the Bate Hall, literally 30 seconds stagger from Dominos.

Queue much embaraasment when two six footers turn up and the pus and colour drain from the acne on the little turd's face as we attempt to kick the door in.

Anyway, I would like to apologise to Tony, the manager, who is now a friend of mine, for threatening to disembowel his jobsworth staff. I may have over-reacted slightly, but his twuntish employees had twice previously brought me a pizza which had been transported on it's side so it was concertina-ed and all the toppings had fallen off. And there was hair in one of them.

When challenged, they said it must have been one of my own hairs that had fallen off. As I have short brown hair, I immediately checked to see if any shoulder length ginger ones had mysteriously sprouted from my bonce. F*ck me, I couldn't find a single one. W*nkers.

Domino's Pizza-Anagram for "Sh*t food badly prepared and sloppily served". (In German, maybe?)
(mashman99, Mon 16 May 2005, 16:15, Reply)

Comet, the bastards
Bought a new fridge.

Me: Can you make sure you deliver it after nine, otherwise there'll be nobody in?"

Salesman/Liar: "Sure! No problem!"

So, we took all the food out of the old one and stuck it in the coldest part of the garden so it wouldn't go off in the couple of hours between Comet taking the old fridge away and the new one going it.

8.59am. Drop off kids at school, arrive home to see Comet lorry disappearing up the road.

Jobsworth at call centre: "Sorry sir, we don't specify delivery times."

Me: (edited highlights without swearing): "How about making him turn around and come back then?"

Jobsworth: "Sorry sir, you've missed your slot. Next available delivery is two days' time."

Me: "What about all my frozen food?"

Jobsworth: "Sorry, not our fault."

Me: "Cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunts!"

Comet: Cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunts, the lot of 'em.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Mon 16 May 2005, 15:53, Reply)

At the solicitors...
Just popped in....

"Is Deborah in" (my solicitor)
"Erm, what?"
"Is Deborah In?"
"Er, yes"
"Can I have a quick word"
"You can't see a partner without an appointment"
"Oh, is she busy"
"No"
"Can I make an appointment then?"
"Yes...When for?"
"Now."
".... ok"

I am the winner, no more posts required thanks.
(Uresu, Mon 16 May 2005, 15:53, Reply)

Bankers
I went to the cashpoint last Sat afternoon, and there was a man standing there. He told me that he had been there for half an hour. He was on the phone, telling Lloyds about how the machine hadn't given his credit card back, with no explanation.

He didn't want to leave the machine, in case it spit his card out into the hands on any old passer-by. Lloyds were telling him that they couldn't/wouldn't do anything about it because he banked with another bank, and were refusing to do anything about it.

He couldn't cancel his card, because the cancellation number was on the back of the card, which was stuck in the machine. He was, quite rightly, very pissed off.

He's probably still there now, the poor fucker.
(8-Ball, Mon 16 May 2005, 15:43, Reply)

yet again that bus company ending in coach and starting with stage
so i go to college in stratford upon avon
and live in coventry. normally i get a specially put on coach service to and from my home but occasionally i finish early and go home. I do this by catching a bus to leamington spa and then from there to coventry. Right? good. They let you buy what is known as a 'through' ticket so it's cheaper. but this time unbeknownst to me the driver of the bus forgot to put transfer on it. So this results in me having an argy bargy with the driver of the second bus because he said my ticket wasn't valid even though it stated 'Stratford to coventry' and the time was printed on there so there was no way i could have already used it. and I got shouty about how they should train their drivers better then burst into to tears at which point he relented and let me ride the bus.

this is about the third time it's happened
(Sparkypinkguitar, Mon 16 May 2005, 15:38, Reply)

Jobsworths!
Made the terrible journey from Winchester to London Waterloo on the morning cattle train on business and duly discovered that there were no more seats.

So, duly wander to first class and sit down to read my paper. I saw the conductor coming and knew he was a cnut because his uniform was immaculate (as were most SS Officers)

Him - "This ticket doesn't entitle you to a first class seat!"

Me - "No, but it does entitle me to a seat"

Him "Not in first class. You will have to pay the three thousand pounds difference"

Me - "Fuck off or i will break your jaw"

Needless to say there were plenty more staff waiting for me at Waterloo. Amusingly, none of my fellow travellers would back up the guards story, so i walked away scot free.

Apologies for length and peculiar smell arising from it.
(Flinglish, Mon 16 May 2005, 15:34, Reply)