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This is a question Jobsworths

All over the world there are little people following the rules and being arsey because, let's face it, it's fun.

Tell us about your experiences with petty jobsworths, or, if you are a petty jobsworth, tell us how much you get off on it.

(, Thu 12 May 2005, 9:53)
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This question is now closed.

Don't come to England then. Or, better yet... BRING REAL MONEY!

*rolls eyes*

(, Thu 19 May 2005, 9:28, Reply)
Anyone ever met Sabrewatch?
Despite having walked past the same security guard at college every day for three years, and a good 18 months seeing him at work every weekend, he still asks me for I.D every time I try to get into the building. Even when I've walked up with every member of the department faculty, chatting about whatever, he lets them past, but stops me...It would be annoying if I couldn't just walk around to the other entrance...
(, Thu 19 May 2005, 8:23, Reply)
Pizza Hut
We went to Pizza Hut for my birthday, and they couldn't seat the six of us straight away, so we had to hang about. I'm on two crutches at the moment, and yet after ten minutes the waitress revealed that we had been waiting for a seat upstairs. We had to wait a bit longer for a downstairs table, and when a table for six cleared we sat down straight away so that we wouldn't lose it to another customer. The table was covered in junk and rubbish, but we assumed the waiter was coming over to clear it. Not so, he was here to tell us that "Yis cannae sit here till ah've cleared it. 'Cause it'd be manky." Right. I got up, onto my crutches. Then I thought "Fuck you." and sat down again. Jesus.

And I actually don't care whether it's "legal tender" or not, I am still going to bite the face of the next arsehole who makes me hang about while they check with their supervisor whether they can accept my money when I'm down in England visiting my boyfriend. When I worked in a shop I was perfectly happy to accept notes from anywhere in the British Isles (including an extremely plasticky Northern Irish tenner), as do all Scottish shops. It's just another example of the dismissive attitude and complete ignorance that a lot of English people have towards their neighbours.
(, Thu 19 May 2005, 7:48, Reply)
Yes, any of us could make a bus ID, but what about the NI card and the bank card? Or are you suggesting he found/nicked the first two and went home and made a bus card?

Who nicks a wallet and keeps proof that it is not theirs?

The chances of someone 14 years old that does not know someone who is 15+ that could buy the film for them is slim.

Just swallow your pride man, I wasn't going out to make you look like a silly tit, I was merely sticking up for someone unfairly (IMO) targeted, when there are (IMO) much more obvious targets.

Once again, and I am sure I'm not the only one, if I worked in HMV etc. and someone offered three different cards of proof that they were 15+ I would sell them the film. A jobsworth wouldn't, which I believe was the point.

*edited more times than I care to mention, as anger subsided.
(, Thu 19 May 2005, 4:41, Reply)
Match stewards
I'm off to watch Swindon Town v Wolves one cold wet Boxing Day a few years back. Match steward wants to search my bag as I go in - fair dos, they're doing it to everyone and I don't want to get stabbed. The following exchange ensues:

(Steward pulls an apple from the bag)
Steward: Is this your apple?
Me: Yes (Thinking: No, I was carrying it for my invisible friend)
Steward: What were you going to do with it?
Me: Eat it at half time (Thinking: have you ever tried queing for a pie at half time?)
Steward: You sure?
Me: Of course
Steward: You weren't thinking of throwing it on the pitch?

Right, like even if I was, I would have said "Damn, you're just too clever for me!"

(, Wed 18 May 2005, 23:12, Reply)
Da police...
...the cops often do some sterling work - it's the nature of their job that most encounters you have with them will be negative.
Mind you, I've never had a problem with them. I have this odd theory that if I don't break the law that they will leave me alone.
It works too.

That said, a friend in the local police (general duties) refers to the traffic branch as "jury fuckers" due to their inate ability to alienate the public for minor traffic infringements.

Apologies for the size of my bribe, officer.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 22:58, Reply)
Police Jobsworths
Interesting, isn't it, that the police have come in for the heaviest criticism here? Surely being a copper is all about being a jobsworth. They're there to enforce the law. Sometimes they can use their discretion but mostly it's strict liability black-and-white. I've met quite a few plods in my time. Most of them are OK people doing a tough job. IF we're lucky, they rarely touch our lives. They come into contact with crap all of the time. So take it easier on them. Except, of course, traffic police who are arse-fucking evil twat-mutants.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 22:41, Reply)
From the bacon patrol...
well... the British Transport Police if you wanna get down to the nitty gritty. I'm one of the baby civvies who has to type up offenders* onto the PNC (database of suspects, etc). The system itself is 30 years old, but with 1.2 million offenders, each with 15+ pages on their nefarious deeds, and nil funding, it ain't gonna get improved in a hurry. As a result, it also cocks up on a regular basis.

So it does again, at about twenty to 5.. I call the service desk, open 9-5, explain the problem at much length, while the little jobsworthy twunt puts me through proverbial Mastermind. "Could you sort this?" I finally ask, after about 20 mins. "No, it's down to the database staff. You'll have to fill out an email." "So what's the address?" 5 mins later, he finally rattles off one. We don't have external email, which is just what he's given me, and then he hangs up. Time? 5.01.

This is just one experience. Almost _all_ PNC staff are like this - lazy, insufferable and rude little bastards, whether they're civvies or true blue bacon. And it always seems to be the PCs who are the winners of the Jobsworth award - the same that we all discover, who will wander the streets with this kinda information, and then take genuine delight in seeing non-members of their sacred clan squirm and/or rant.

Strangely enough, I like my job a lot. Most of the coppers I work with and talk to are nice people who're a fair bit embittered by the shite they see and the shite they take. But there are exceptions... and we somehow seem to get the worst and most. Just grit your teeth and remember: they'll be getting the crap today, and tomorrow, and for another 20 years - and they've chosen it. Hope that brings some comfort.

I like girth, and so should you.
**returns to major lurkage**

*read "chav"
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 22:30, Reply)
Basket Tills
I sometimes get customers with trolleys going to the basket tills (the ones with the big sign above them saying "ONE BASKET ONLY"), sometimes with the escuse "I have less than 10 items!" but more often saying nothing. I let them get on with it, and watch them pass, without them knowing that the width of the aisle is expertly set to be just a tiny bit smaller than 2 trolley widths. It is so much fun watching 2 people try and shove their trolleys through the gap at the same time!

Well the rule is there for a reason...
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 22:11, Reply)
Don't be too hard on bouncers
At a busy club it can get a bit repetitive, espescially as some places have a paranoid policy about underage drinkers, whereby the managment make the bouncers ID anyone who looks under 21 or even 25 to make sure they are over 18.
Last year my dad got asked for ID on a works night out.
"No all I've got is a photo of my two Grandaughters."
Bouncer looks up. "oh sorry sir"

Although I never did work out why in a pub I'd been drinking in for over a year I got asked for ID all of a sudden two weeks after my eighteenth birthday, same barstaff that had allways been there.

The wierdest one was on holiday in Cornwall, just finished A levels. Bought two cases of beer and a bottle of whiskey, no problem. Go outside put it in my mates car, realise I have run out of tobbaco go back in and get served by the same retarded ape who now asks me for ID?

I then said okay you got me, I'm only 15 and I'm going to tell trading standards about the beer and whiskey you just sold me.

Well I didn't realy say that but I did think it 5 minuetes later.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 22:03, Reply)
Er, Bondgrrl, that's quite a tired prejudice you have there...
The "parasite(s) on society, fisting good honest people up the arse just (to) make a litle more of the shiney gold stuff" would be able to get on with the decent legal work if it wasn't for society's greed. Speaking on behalf of myself and others in the profession, I can assure you that, funnily enough, we don't enjoy hearing about your petty lives and answering how much we can get from your bastard husband, your tired doctor, or your newest franchisee.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 21:06, Reply)
Re: Not many but always some
Lister, about that seven year degree: was that the one that allowed you to be a parasite on society, fisting good honest people up the arse just so you can make a litle more of the shiney gold stuff?

You fucking cunt.

Apologies for length, irrelevance and USA lawyer hating.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 20:45, Reply)
Not many but always some
In the USA, "jobsworths" congregate in goverment and monopoly endeavors, as well religious nightmares like Utah. We just call them c*nts.

So I'm in jeans and deck shoes and I walk up to the Reference Desk in the local library, seeking a State Abstract. The snooty Head Librarian deigns to assist this off-duty and out-of-uniform attorney.

To make conversation, I ask if she likes her job. She snorts and replies that she had to get a four-year degree. Having finished a seven-year program myself, I chuckled. She got all haughty and added that she had to complete an additional two years for her Master's degree.

Tired of her attitude, I then inquired, "Is that where you learned how to file all of the difficult books?" and wandered away, laughing like a madman.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 18:33, Reply)
I f#cking hate the police
I have never met a policeman I liked. Where are you all you twunts? I'd have thought you'd have plenty of tales to tell. You must be collectively the biggest pool of jobsworths in the country. It should actually be your job title, especially when you consider how little "policing" you actually do. You got anal about stuff when you were bullied at school. The police training gave you your love of procedure, a bit of authority and a uniform, and now there you are reading this instead of telling us about the petty day you've just had avoiding solving any real crime. Rather unfluffy, but true. Grrr - then I go onto the BBC website and read this.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 18:11, Reply)
Continuing in the vein of my first reply to this question at the bottom of this page, could people please refrain from responding to other people's replies. Technically this is not allowed and it's more than my job's worth to let you go on, without making some anal point about it.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 17:55, Reply)
For pointless GCSEs in pointlees maths...
...I have to do a survey for my statistics. After about 6 months I have it finished. Almost. I had it sent off, then it came back with a D or a C, one of the two. I rushed to get it better ready to send off, spent a whole lesson organising it, and then left the things I might need with it. About a week later maths teacher says to me that I need to sort out my coursework. He gave me it back and made me spend another full lesson sifting through pages of paper when I already had it sorted it. He had obviously took all of it and shoved it into a poly-pocket.
And there's this network administrator at our school (the 'computer jesus') who gets kicks out of being arsey. My friend's coursework was deleted from the computer and he's still waiting for the computer jesus to get the files from the backup we KNOW HE KEEPS ON A DAT TAPE DRIVE EVERY NIGHT!
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 17:52, Reply)
With further reference to..

So what? What evidence is there that the NI card is his? Or that the bank card is his, and that he hasn't just found/stolen someones wallet? Given the lack of photo - none what so ever
And as for the bus pass - anyone here could make a realistic looking pass in 5 mins - hardly surprising it wasnt taken as ID
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 17:44, Reply)
Hear hear, Spoonlord
You make a good point. I work in a cinema, and I'm not about to risk my job so that some filthy 13-year-old chav can see people get blown up or hacked to bits. I don't get off on following the rules, I do it so that I don't get sacked or fined! And if people have a problem with that, I have the bouncers throw them out :)

I do accept Scottish bank notes though.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 17:14, Reply)
Proof of age etc
I work in Virgin Megastores, Ill tell you about proof of age, first off its a legal requirement, with a 5000 pound fine on the back.
Next, your buss pass, NI, and bank card mean absolutly nothing, because quite simply they have no way of tell whos they are, only ID with a photo is any proof, so even a birth certificate isn't allowable.
You want a job there after arguing with a staff member as well? Im not suprised you got that answer.
My advice to someone who gets ID is, dont be offended, because its the law, simple. and also you DO need ID with both a photo and DOB on it, otherwise you would be able to use anyones id.
anyone can borrow someone elses ID if it doesn't have any photo ID, oh and before someone screams but I sign for stuff using my card therefore... Well I hate to break it to you but only credit cards are age limited to 18, and they arnt ID.
At the end of the day the penaltys for under age sale of media greatly out weigh you throwing a hissy fit in the store.
Also, getting irate and angry with staff is the worst way of getting what you want, if you upset or shout at someone, its not going to help.
I deal with people who think that if they kick up a fuss they will some how get around the rules. What attually happens is the person serving you shuts off, if your being shitty why should they help you?
I get all sorts of customers, who buy things and sometimes make mistakes as long as they are nice and civil its not a problem, but when they come in all guns firing they last thing I want to do is serve them.
Remember, staff don't have to serve you, they dont have to put up with your abuse, and if they don't know somthing they just don't know! they arn't hiding somthing or doing it to spite you, remember people working in shops are people not some slave for your demands.
It disgusts me when people slag off people who do things like work in mcdonalds just because that where they work. You treat them like people and you will get a nice response.
People like me are paid to help you, and we will, but I won't break the law, I will ID people and no if you shout and swear at me you won't get served.

Now, sorry about the rant, but some peoples attitude to people working disgusts me.

I have never had a issue I could not resolve sensibly, but you get your self in a state, and nothing on earth will make me go out of my way to help.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 16:48, Reply)
I used to do the same thing when I lived in Cambridge - I always had a pocket full of Scottish notes after coming back up for the holidays. I'd always end up with the fucking jobsworth in tescos refusing to take them.
"Sorry, Mite, we carn't tyke these, it's not legal tendah!"

Fucking cocks!

Which reminds me . . . . .

In the same Cambridgeshire village i lived in, there's a small shop where the cashier is truly thicker than pigshit!

You have no idea.
At first I thought he was "special", but then I checked it out and realised that he was just an inbred hicktown mouth-breather. No excuses, he's just a worthless human being.
There are hundreds of stories, but this one got me most of all.

I went in to the empty shop, got two bottles of wine, put them on the counter, each priced £4.95. He rang them through, and charged me £12.

Me: "Sorry, pal, but I think you've over charged me - it should come to less than a tenner - the wine says £4.95 each."

Mongo, aged about 20:" Does it? oh, well, it's done now . . . (he hesitated, unapologetically looking back at me, waiting for me to say 'oh, never mind', but instead I quietly asked again for the money back - like anyone would.)

Mongo: **sensing my unwillingness to give in** "I can't change it now. What do you want me to do about it?"

A queue was now forming behind me, but they were on my side.
"You've got to charge him what it says on the label," said the guy behind me, "It should be £9.90."

Me: "It's not a problem, if you could just refund the money you overcharged me, I'll be on my way. Easy"

Mongo, says quietly in to his chest: "I don't know how".

This really struck me, cause I'd lived there for a year and a half, and he'd always worked in that store, and his acts of absolute fucktard-dom were now legendary amongst the people in the village

Me: "Could the manager do it?"

Mongo Speaks in to a microphone, pannicking : "Rose, Rose, I need help, please!!"

The manger comes out sighing, and helpful as ever, simply gives me the cash the moron had overcharged me, at the same time, she asks him to take care of the large queue of customers at the other till.

The next part nearly floored me!

Mongo, close to tears now: "But I don't want to! Please, Rose, please can't I just mop the floor?"

The large queue of customers he's supposed to be serving suddenly go quiet in shock, but the manager remains composed, and in a fair but firm voice, she says: "No, just do your job!"

Mongo, on the verge of breaking down, shakes his head as he repeats over and over: "I just want to mop the floor, please, let me mop the floor!"

I walked out, not sure if it was funny or tragic - I couldn't even bring myself to laugh.

It's not as if it's a high pressure job, working in a sleepy village store, where the rest fo the staff were actually pretty nice. What could possibly cause him to crack?
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 16:41, Reply)
When I try to go to a club in trainers, the 'doormen' stop me. I used to bribe them with normal, legal English money to let me in.

Now I will get a wad of Scottish fivers, and use those. The jobsworth arsedonkies on the door won't be able to spend them anywhere.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 16:07, Reply)
stagecoach busses & scottish notes
I enjoy baiting Stagecoach bus drivers with Scottish one pound notes too. I always make sure I have a nice big wodge of them everytime I get back to Cambridge from Scotland:
BD: I'm sorry we don't take them
Me: I've just got back from Scotland and I don't have anything else.
I also pointed out that Stagecoach were a Scottish company and they should have no problems accepting them.
BD: You must have something else
*BD grabs my wallet and has a look*
-its chock full of the Royal Banks' finest green ones.
BD: Is this some kind of joke?
Me: your company is.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 15:43, Reply)
I was
on a Stagecoach bus having an argument with a fellow passenger (who worked for Comet) about whether Scottish/English banknotes are accepted as legal tender by train conductors, whilst also on my mobile to HSBC call centre enquiring as to whether i could exchange my faulty fridge; when suddenly we were run off the road by an ice-cream van driven by a bouncer.
I attempted to disembark only to be asked for ID because i was wearing trainers.

er, then i got chilli on my cock.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 15:27, Reply)
aren't Scottish bank notes legal tender then?
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 15:08, Reply)
Supermarket Fun!
quick and dirty...

A flushed, stressed husband type comes running up to me while i was working as a 'Fresh Food Assistant' (my greasy hair, sideburns and tab stained fingers didn't instill 'freshness' to the customers but meh) panting he says, under his breath, looking around

HIM : "I'm looking for 'towels'?" wink wink
ME : "Sir?" instantly knowing but choosing to ignore
HIM : "Ladies towels?"
ME : "Towels sir?"
HIM : "Yeah, ladies towels" more stern looks of embarassment
ME : "Ladies towels? i'm not sure what u mean sir"
HIM : " YOU KNOW" more winks "LADIES Towels
ME : "We have bath towels"
HIM : "No, not those sorts of towels"
ME : "Hang on, i'll ask" i turn and shout : "Dan, We got any ladies towels?" to my mate
DAN : "Towels sir" he replies, eyes watering
HIM : "NNOO MAN" getting aggitated "feminine towels"
ME : "I think there might be pink ones ov..."

Que tumbleweeds.......
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 14:55, Reply)
Thanks for that. I have now read all said posts and feel the need to point out to you that Bank of England notes are NOT legal tender in Scotland. What an educational QotW!
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 14:55, Reply)
Insurance Company
When I purchased my car in 2001, I bought something called "disability insurance," which makes my car payments if I get hurt and can't work. I paid off the car about a year early, and in the congrats letter from Toyota, I learned that I am entitled to a partial refund from the disability insurance. I was to call the dealership or the insurance company to get my money.

I call the dealership, because the paperwork I have only says "Life Investors," and no contact info is given for the company. The dealership tells me that they are a new dealership, and the old one is defunct. Nohing from the old dealership came to them. So sorry, and they don't deal with that company, but here is the number for Toyota, maybe they know something...

Call Toyota, and talk to a very pleasant gentleman (Brice) who tells me to call the dealership. I explain to him the situation, and he puts me on hold, only to come back and tell me that they don't know who that insurance company is, and that I should call the dealership, which I've already explained to him... oh, never mind.

Google search of "Life Investors" (that just sounds more morbid each time I type it) gets me to an old website with a toll free 800 number. Crossing my fingers, I call it, and get a very pleasant woman at some other company. I tell her what's going on, and she informs me that I need to call the dealership. No no no, I explain and she 'fesses up that they are the parent company of Life Investors. Using my soc number, she calls up my account and tells me that I should have about $40 coming. Better than nothing. I ask her for the policy number, but she says "it's about 30 numbers long, just give them your soc and they can call it up there." She gives me the number I need to call.

Call them, and get a not-too-pleasant woman who tells me to call the dealership, they can't do that here. After explaining, she asks for my policy number, and I say I don't have one, but they can call it up by my soc. "We can't do that," she says. "Your parent company could, they got all my info right there." "You need to call them and get it, then." She finally sighs and tells me to write a letter with copies of all the documents and "we'll see."

It must not have gone to her, because two weeks later, I get my check. But boy, they sure don't want you to get your money.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 14:51, Reply)
Yet again pedantry
Even if something is Legal Tender (which Scottish banknotes are not) shopkeepers, cabbies, etc are under no obligation at all to accept it - they can refuse any currency they want. The term "legal tender" only refers to what can or cannot be refused in payment of a debt (a transaction, eg paying for a cab ride, is not legally speaking a debt but a transaction).
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 14:33, Reply)
As has been mention many, many, many times so far, Scottish bank notes are NOT legal tender, and English shops/cabbies are under no obligation to accept them whatsoever. They are accepted because the Bank of Scotland is not likely to disappear overnight and make the note worthless. The only 'legal' tender in England, Scotland and Wales are Bank of England notes.
(, Wed 18 May 2005, 14:26, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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