Ian Maiden is a......
COCK! hehe



who is he again?
(Mr Moo Cow - HairyBeef, Tue 17 May 2005, 22:10, Reply)

Went to a customer site....
And I met Ms Diane Maiden....

'Tis true so it is.
She got married late last year so chuckles no longer.
(DrMarvello making rabbits appear out of hats since, Tue 17 May 2005, 21:47, Reply)

Call centre fun as well!
Hi SmokedSausageSupper, glad to see you enjoy telling people who want information on accounts that aren't in there names to go away as much as we do!
Our fave is when a married man (or woman) have a mortgage in single names and when they can't afford the additional borrowing want to use their spouses income.
'can't I'm afraid unless you add them to the mortgage'
'But I'm married to them, and they eran £x per year'
'What if they leave you sir, or if you leave them? how will you manage your debt then?'
'Er.....'
'Thank you for calling today.'

---------------------------

Or brokers , there may be an honest mortgage broker out there, there may also be a God, (but thats for another time)

We can't talk to brokers due to regulations, and its funny when they phone up thinking they own the world,
'Nope, your client needs to call us'
'But I put the mortgage through, and I have a letter of authority'
'Sorry, regulations'
'I'll tell my are rep about you'
(like I give a shit)
'Sorry, tell the client to call us direct'
'I'll tell them to take their mortgage elsewhere'
'Thanks for calling'

also we take great delight in saying 'Computer says No' as well, or 'new customers only'
actually being jobsworth is the only pleasure I get from my job....

I need a new job.
(Lord Monkey of Yorkshire,OBE killed a gipsy on...., Tue 17 May 2005, 21:43, Reply)

Vlad The Impala - sorry...
...but your reaction just makes me want to reject Scottish banknotes all the more. And I still have no idea how to tell if your monopoly money is genuine or forged, so I will continue to do so.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Tue 17 May 2005, 21:42, Reply)

Moron
Went to a petrol station for the weekend, and after paying for my fuel I gave the young chap a £2 coin and asked for two 50 pence peices and the rest in 20s.

He looks at me and says "so how many 20s?"

...
(FortyFour, Tue 17 May 2005, 21:12, Reply)

call centre fun
work in a call centre for large insurance firm (with initials NU) - i absolutely LOVE it when i get a husband or wife of policyholder on the phone wanting info on their spouse's policy. (not allowed to talk to anyone except named policyholder).....goes a bit like this....

Me - "welcome to NU how can i help?"

Caller - "Yes, i'd like some information on my wife's / husband's policy"

Me - "Is Mr or Mrs available to talk to at the moment, i can only talk to them about it i'm afraid?"

Caller - " No, but i'm the spouse, i can clarify their identity"

you probably can imagine the next few lines so i won't bore you - but the icing on the cake is when the prick turns around and says....

"well, i'll be taking my business elsewhere then!" click, phone goes down......

like i give a flying fuck you snivelling fuckpig............

i love being a jobsworth, getting a rise out of people really brightens up an otherwise dull day!
(Foxy McClumpha, Tue 17 May 2005, 21:11, Reply)

the fun of being people's only source of tobacco
StrangeKristine - I'm glad you have as much fun on the Morrison's kiosk as I do.

Although not technically jobsworthy, it really creeps customers out if you give them the correct level of customer service mentioned in the training, viz:

Me: Good afternoon! How may I help you?
Dim Customer: uh... yeah... halfounce of golden virginia?
Me: Certainly! Would you like any Rizlas or filters?
DC: uh... no.
Me: OK then! (beep beep beep) That's two fifty-seven please!
DC: (hands over cash)
Me: Thank you, that's five... OK, that's two fifty seven, sixty, eighty, three, four, five your change, and your receipt. Is there anything else I can do for you today?
DC: (seriously creeped out at how cheerful I am) uh.. no.
Me: OK then, have a pleasant afternoon. Thank you for shopping at Morrisons!

I'm not sure how I stay cheery. You might not want to ask though.

No apologies. Bite me.

- rob_187
(rob_187 Ooh, Faye Dunaway!, Tue 17 May 2005, 20:42, Reply)

two things.
Firstly being a wether-bitch myself, the bonus is determined on silly little things like the number of people you ID and the atmosphere of the pub, which in my area the guy that checks atmosphere likes old men sitting arround drinking halves of mild with the occasional brandy for his wife. Not lads drinking bud out the bottle (why when its on tap)

Sorry but i get that kinda shit from people every day who think its their right to drink, not their privilege

Secondly, when trying to get a parking permit for my new house (yeah i know it cost money to park my car where i live) i was asked where i live, what i drive etc etc then , she asked me the questions all over again cos the forms have to be filled in duplicate.
One for the enviroment agency and one for aborough council.
(Bored, Tue 17 May 2005, 20:12, Reply)

Teflon coated, sloping shoulders.....
Silverlink trains - I used to get a season ticket/golden ticket with all the whistles and bells, which at nigh on 3grand, is like buying a fairly ok car each year. You think that gives you any rights? Bah.
One day at U/ground station, I put my ticket in. Doesn't spit it out. Get Underground driver to open the machine. Its not there. Feckles, just lost my ticket. Get replacement. (After having to pay out of my own pocket for 5weeks whilst getting new ticket)
Right - One month later, managed to do the classic fall asleep and get completely robbed of everything you had one you (Inc frigging season ticket again).
Now, Silverlink hear from me claiming for a new ticket. They refused to re-issue it to me. This is 5 months into the season ticket - So still got a few months left. Why, I ask, the reason for my non-reissue? "Because you could be selling them on for your own gains" Whhaaaaaaaat?! I spend the next 3weeks at loggerheads with this fecker for a person, almost resulting me in going personally to the HQ in Cambridge and wringing his neck (??? Which is about 40 miles from the silverlink line and goes nowhere near Cambs) - 2months, £400 out of my own pocket in train fares later and letters with police ref's and statements later, I claim my season ticket back.

Now I just bunk the train, getting a zone1/2 card - If I do get caught these days, I ask for a extension then shortly afterwards pull out my YP's railcard (even though I turned 26 last year). Revenge of the Zing!
Choke on my girth....
( -:Coop:-, Tue 17 May 2005, 17:30, Reply)

The customer is always right
I used to work as a chef on the isle of wight, by night we were a pukka establisment serving decent food, but the owner was a greedy twat and decided to do lunch also... so we serverd up the usula dross, chilli, chicken and chips, lasagne....

one lunch shift one of the waiteresses came in and said there was a man at the front desk wished to talk to the chef... I walked out to be confronted by an American man in his 70's wearing a stetson, embroidered waistcoat and cowboy boots...

"Now then sonny..." he starts... and not the best one IMHO "i see you have chilli on yer menu"

I try to keep it together "thats correct Sir..."

He continues " how hot is it ?? cos i'm from Texas and we like our chilli Damned hot..."

"Well sir it is what i would call medium strength , but if sir would prefer it hotter i can surely accomodate your needs" (you old cunt)

To which he answers " i'll take it as hot as you can make it"

Now i am sorry, but that, to me soundsed like a challenge, a challenge to which i arose magnificantly

I returned to the kitchen and dished up one portion of chilli into a bowl, then in a blender i placeda habnd full of Jalepeios, 1 whole red Habeneros, 1 full bottle of tabasco and a serving spoon of cayenne pepper, whissed it up for 10 seconds and added the resulting liquid fire to the portion of chilli, sent it out to the tosser with my complements, i wasched from the sidelines as the old duffer tucked in... with the first forkfull i saw the back of the guys neck turn purple :)

He sat there for an hour and 25 minutes before he finished the meal...i bet he never ate chilli again

i guess the moral of my tale is be careful what you ask for and how you ask for it

i make no appologies for length or content
(Ickypimp, Tue 17 May 2005, 16:50, Reply)

for zedd
try this - it's an anti telemarketing counter script.

www.xs4all.nl/%7Eegbg/counterscript.html
(sticks Errol flynn in female form, Tue 17 May 2005, 16:39, Reply)

This one time...
at band camp I stuck a flute in my pussy. Then this fucking RSPCA jobsworth turned up and shouted at me about the proper use of musical instruments and their interface with cats. It seems Jonny Law doesn't think a cats rectum is an appropriate place for my flute. Nobody seemed to mind when I stuck a cello in my sisters beaver...

*Ian Maiden - nobless goon of the highest order*
(Manatee Fondler, Tue 17 May 2005, 16:37, Reply)

...
have you been watching seinfeld zedd?
( toadfish, Tue 17 May 2005, 16:27, Reply)

little chef
my uncle was driving my 90 year old, wizened and enfeebled gran up to our house for christmas (thanks uncle charlie) when they stopped for microwaved delights at a little chef. my gran, being a fan of booze but not food, asked for a light snack and asked my uncle to get the main meal with which they graciously allow you a glass of wine. the spotty oik serving them caught on to this ruse and refused to let my uncle have the wine as it was clear he would give it to my gran, and not being protected against the effects of alcohol she would then be over the limit. they did this despite the fact that she was clearly not the designated driver (suffering as she does from cataracts and dementia) and thus denying an old lady her only pleasure in life.

she made up for it when she got to our house though, and spent christmas eve to boxing day wasted.
(gubbins69, Tue 17 May 2005, 16:02, Reply)

FAO Disasterprone (see below)
www.b3ta.com/questions/jobsworths/post31559/

In the interests of saving space on the boards plese remove the duplicate...

Oh hang on a tic....
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Tue 17 May 2005, 15:54, Reply)

I would
skive off work and answer this question but it's more than my job's worth.

ba-dum-tish!
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Tue 17 May 2005, 15:46, Reply)

Ian Maiden
Surely the whole point of B3ta is to ignore the question, post amusing anecdote/filth and lie to gain clicks and therefore B3ta GLORY!
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Tue 17 May 2005, 15:34, Reply)

The staff of Blackpool Tower
are a bunch of cunts. They have a policy of not letting anyone under 18 in without an adult, and the staff uphold this Nazi-style. Last summer I was with a group of friends who'd come to the shithole known as Blackpool where I'm unfortunate enough to live, and for some reason we decided to go Blackpool Tower. Despite 3 of us being 15 and the other being very obviously 18, and clearly not being a group of violent pissed-up chavs, the spotty prick behind the counter refused to let us in without ID, so we had to go all the way home to get a passport. Cunts.

Apparently though they open the fire escape doors every 15 minutes and you can sneak in then. I'll have to try one day.

No apologies for length, only for boringness.
(The Worminator I have discovered that Quavers are nice, Tue 17 May 2005, 15:17, Reply)

can i see your ID please?
you think anything of this is bad? wait until you can't even use a fucking train station toilet because jobsworth wants to see your National ID Card to prove, er, something. And you'll get fined for not having it. And every bloody jobsworth dole staffer, bank clerk, customer service rep, twathead in the UK will need it AT EVERY TURN. No card? No healthcare, bank access, aaargh, George Orwell was sooooo right
( writerblock ... embedding disabled by request on, Tue 17 May 2005, 14:56, Reply)

Rental man inflicts just punishment
Just got back from Italy with 12 mates - two of whom are Rich And They Know It, and who pissed the other 10 of us off with non-stop patronising comments, complaints that we should go to better restaurants and buy nicer booze, etc.

Cue the end of the holiday. It's time to fly home, and it's time to drop off the hire cars. The Rich Queens have their own car; they turn up at the Hertz desk being self-important.

"We've left the car in a space outside the airport, now give us the receipt, we're in a hurry"

"I'm sorry sir, you have to take the car to the long stay car park 1500 metres from the airport, and then come back here to sort out the paperwork".

When we enter the airport in our car a few minutes later, we encounter one annoyed Rich Queen, who tells us we'll need to go to the long stay car park. So to make sure we end up finding the right place, we go to the Hertz booth first, leaving the car parked in the middle of the road with the hazard lights on - and speak to the same receptionist.

"Excuse me, please can you let me know where we need to drop the hire car?"

"Ah, don't worry, just leave it where it's parked."

"But it's parked in the middle of the road with the hazards on."

"No problem. Have you filled the tank? Good. Hand over the keys and here's your receipt."

Good work, Italian rental man.
(stalinism, Tue 17 May 2005, 14:54, Reply)

Dutch Doctor
I decided that I've spent long enough killing myself on the smokes, so I ring up the doctor. I need him to fill out a prescription for some quitting drugs, mainly so I can claim them back on the insurance (gotta love Holland!).

I ask the receptionist (in Dutch) what time the surgery is available for drop-in visits. 7am to 9am. Bit of an ask to get up that early on a Friday, but what the hell.

Next day, barely awake and still with pillow marks on my face I make it to the surgery. Only to find a note taped to the door that the doctor has gone on a long weekends holiday and won't be back until Tuesday.

Ring back a little later and go crazy at the receptionist. Her answer: "You asked when the surgery was open, not if it was actually open".

At this point, Chumphry reaches for his pack of Marlboro.
(Chumphry, Tue 17 May 2005, 14:33, Reply)

My office has just moved...
... and commendably they want to avoid identity fraud. OK then, change the addresses on the email sigs, but let's not go over the top? Apparently not. EVERYTHING that has the old address on it is scrapped. Cue randomly writing the old address on stuff, and waving goodbye to it.

The best bit? The CD covers we've had printed are too expensive to replace, so we have stickers with the new address on to put over the top of the old one. Almost genius. I'm sure no-one could possibly peel off the sticker, fucktards.

Good luck in the new job, Lord Manley (and imminently Matt). Of course, you'll be too busy now to read this.
(RooTheGrockle, Tue 17 May 2005, 14:33, Reply)

Hampshire Feckin Police
For pure jobsworthery, Ladies and Gentlemen, i give you Hampshire Police.

Last year, having parked (legally) to go and drop a couple of movies off, i got in my car and noticed there was crap all over my windscreen from a tree i had parked under. As i pulled away, i gave it a blast from my washer bottles. The windscreen instantly went opaque.
I pulled over immediately and got out to clean the offending sticky shit off my windscreen. Immediately, two of Hampshire's finest pull up and start in on me.

"Your car sir?" etc. Turns out i have one wheel on the lines approaching a zebra crossing and are not impressed, despite me repeatedly trying to explain, calmly, my predicament.

One of the coppers then got in to my car, told me he would be applying the full penalty and if it were up to him that people like me wouldn't be allowed the "privelige" of driving.

Three points and a sixty pound fine. Bastards.

Excuse length and lack of witty banter, but it still smarts like a split arse. Bastards.
(Flinglish, Tue 17 May 2005, 14:32, Reply)

Tesco Jobsworth
I know they're not allowed to sell alcohol after 11:00 - even if it is only 11:01 - the till won't let them put it through. What narked me is that the dozy cow on the checkout spent about two minutes changing a till roll which hadn't even run out, replenishing the supply of carrier bags, adjusting her seat, etc., first before swiping my desperately needed beer (after a long day at work).

I grudgingly left said beer behind and paid with my debit card (this is before chip and pin). I then went and found the manager and told him that the girl on checkout 9 did not check my signature and if he cared to look he would see that I had signed it "Mickey Mouse".

Hah!
( Amos E Wolfe makes vinyl signs and things like that, Tue 17 May 2005, 14:11, Reply)

Oh wait, I *have* got one!
Holiday in France, got to Charles de Gaul airport and *just* made it into the check-in queue. Helpful staff member looks at our passports, looks at our tickets and allows us to join the queue. Where we wait. And wait.

Finally get to the desk only to be told we've missed checkin by 15 minutes - coincidentally the exact same length of fucking time we've been in the queue.

We go to see if we can change the tickets but they won't let us. We ask if we can run out to the plane and they won't let us do that even though there's a delay and it's been put back an hour.

No, we had to spend £120 on new tickets home, then sit looking out the window as the plane we should have been on sits there for another fucking hour, mocking us.

Bloody Jobsworths!
( Biggus Dickus , it was like that when I found it, Tue 17 May 2005, 13:54, Reply)

Ian Maiden
is indeed a cock. But not as much of one as Daniel Bedingfield of course.
( BobbyParadise, Tue 17 May 2005, 13:48, Reply)

...
Ian Maiden: berk
(yiddo, Tue 17 May 2005, 13:39, Reply)