Health and Safety Australian Style
Visiting newly built fishing boat in Brisbane River, I need to cross 20m of boatyard to reach water's edge and board boat. Stopped in tracks by site health and safety moron. Cue 15 minute standoff with him explaining how it was more than his job's worth to allow me to walk to the boat without steel capped shoes on. Eventually after enduring lecture from hell about how to mitigate risks he agrees to allow me to walk to boat. Arrive at gangway to be met by another boatyard worker with hand held up. "Hold it Mate. The deck paint hasn't quite completed curing. If you want to come aboard this boat you will have to remove your shoes and socks first."
(Oogabooga, Sun 15 May 2005, 4:16, Reply)

Government Jobsworths are the most maggoty
I work for a skip rental firm and took a call one day from a code enforcement officer of a small town demanding a large licensing fee for the right to place our skips at our customer's worksites. It was akin to paying $500 for the right to rent you a vacuum cleaner once in a great while.

This crap man would not back down despite my cogent, pateint coaching designed to place him squarely back in the land of the free (I'm American). We soon received a written demand, with copies sent to every poobah in the district. Enclosed was a copy of the ordinance he cited.

It quickly emerged that the gentleman had not read his own ordinance, which merely required licensing for the right to dump skips in the town landfill, closed a few decades ago. What joy I took in my reply letter, tutoring him on both law and judgment, which of course was sent as well to every cleark and boardmember on the original distribution list. Not only did we never hear from him again; we recently had the opportunity to rent a skip to his neighbor across the road.

I live for opportunities to break these bastards on my wheel.
( scartoonist, Sun 15 May 2005, 2:12, Reply)

Another Weatherspoons Story
As I don't drive and never been abroad, I don't have any forms of ID. When I was 18, that was a problem, so I applied for a Portman Group Card.

This card, issued by the Portman Group, is a legal form of identification (has photo, DOB, address etc.). Fair enough.

I got it, and immediately got ID in Weatherspoons. Whipped out the card, they said "sorry, we can't accept that ID."

Which is a pain. Considering that the same Weatherspoons a week earlier had sold me that card, and there's a big batch of leaflets behind the counter promoting them.

I was refused, wrote a very angry letter to Mr. JD Weatherspoon (who I thought existed, but he actually doesn't - thanks to another board member for pointing it out. I feel so cheated) which I emailed the local press, and got a voucher entitling me to 2 for the price of 1 on all draughts. Bonus!
(rhyswynne - on every social network mullarkey known to man, Sun 15 May 2005, 1:29, Reply)

W4nky Gym Receptionists
At our local Gym and Leisure facility we decided to start playing Badminton weekly.

After the first time we played we wanted to book a court again for the next week and so we went to pay at the counter on our way out.

We didn't have any cash on us but my partner had her bank card. The awkward "Jobsworth" receptionist insisted that we couldn't pay by card as it would result in the Gym incurring a surcharge. Despite this apparent "RULE" we could book by card if we booked by phone.

So, my partner picked up her mobile phone and whilst standing opposite the receptionist, rang the Gym and booked a court for the next week - by credit card.

You should have seen their faces!

Quality.
(JayTee, Sun 15 May 2005, 0:17, Reply)

Trucking tales.
In haulage, the biggest jobsworths are the cnuts who book loads into warehouses, the Goods In clerks. They're neck and neck with the gate security, who are thicker but have bigger boots.

Case 1: Booking in, the GIC tells me it's going to be 3 hours to unload. Fine I say, I'll be asleep in the cab. "No you can't sleep in the cab, it's against the fire regs." So I stretched out on the counter. Tipped and gone in 20 minutes.

Case 2: At the gate, security inform me they're going to search my cab. So I fart before getting out. Long, loud and noisome. "Sorry mate, dodgy kebab".
(all my scars face forward possesses 2.5% of a hyperalloy combat chassis, Sat 14 May 2005, 23:48, Reply)

theres a teacher at my school
who won't mark you as being present in the register if you arrive after 0905 in the morning or after 1405 at lunchtime because (and i paraphrase) "this [the register] is a legal document and it must not be falsified" ... people have turned up at 0906 and been told to sign in later at reception. others, like me, just dont bother turning up at all. petty stuff or what.
(zenmeban thinks the weather could be better, Sat 14 May 2005, 23:22, Reply)

Ever tried to get something out of a travel insurance company?
I had a motorbike crash in spain and had to be rushed to hospital, patched up, slung into bed with a broken knee and hands too bruised to put any weight on (eventually both turned out to be broken too). Astoundingly, despite being passed out most of the time at the side of the road, I had managed to scoop up my insurance documents, and gave them a call as soon as I could get someone to manhandle me into a wheelchair, to say I needed their help.

The so called emergency helpline were not so helpful though. Various people repeatedly told me that I had to continue my holiday, and it was not their job to get me home just because I'd had an accident, despite the fact that I couldn't move without help and the spanish hospital wanted to get me on a plane home as soon as possible so they could use the bed. When I tried to tell tham about how my injuries made that impossible, they'd write it down and promise to call back, but never did. When I called back the information would have mysteriously vanished

Ok I was up to the eyeballs in morphine so not as forceful as normal, but you'de hope they'd be trained for that. It took my sister, a forceful exec type, flying down to Spain and rescuing me, calling the insurers every hour on the hour, faxing documents to them repeatedly and literally carrying me into a hotel when the hospital chucked me out, to get anything out of them.

Eventually they sent out a nurse and flew me home on a stretcher in state, but it makes you wonder what would have happened if I hadn't have got the documents.

Did they refund my sister's unnecesary, last minute and stupidly expensive flight that she wouldn't have had to take if they had done their job properly? Of course not, because it wasn't a direct cost relating to the accident. Nor the hotel bill while we waited for them to organise the flight.
(sticks Errol flynn in female form, Sat 14 May 2005, 22:53, Reply)

Jerkwater pricks
Friday I visited a place that makes wrought iron things because I needed a new handrail on my outside steps. Ordinarily, I'd say bag it, but it's rental property and the city will come down on us like a ton of bricks if we aren't up to code. I spend the better part of my free hour driving up and down the same 750 meter stretch of road looking for 1204 fucking North Main. The buildings run so that 1202 is touching 1250. I finally find the place by dint of driving down an unmarked driveway and creeping along the river.

I walk in this shop, have to yell over the clanging and hammering to find the boss and when I walk in the office, I make a joke, "Y'all don't want to be found, do ya?" with a smile. The prick sneers at me and says, "Not really."

Hmm, let's start over. "I need a wrought ir-"

"We don't do anything custom."

"Then why does your sign say 'Custom Ironwork'?"

"We only do custom jobs for builders." Well, I AM a girl, but how does he know I'm not the CEO of the construction company? I'm a little confused.

"I don't need anything custom, I just need to pick out a railing--maybe from the ones in that stack over there?" I point to the workman piling them up.

"Sorry, no can do, you don't have an appointment."

"Can I make an appt now?"

"No, you have to call ahead. Send your husband back Monday and make sure he calls first so I have time for him." and then turns his back on me.

If I'd been thinking, I would have said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I was dealing with a professional, not a greasy, pigeon-chested, cocksucking useless workshy cnut of a builder*!" and flounced out.

Instead, I hissed, "You clearly don't want any money from me!" and flounced out. If I thought he wouldn't charge me with assault, I woulda slapped that creep.


*UWCoaB patent pending scaryduck
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Sat 14 May 2005, 22:43, Reply)

Seen the film "Falling Down"?
Are you allowed 2 posts in the same Question?

Anyway, had a blinder today. A friend an I were faffing about repairing cars and decided to break for some food. Off to the local Tesco where they have a cafeteria. Being a bit of a bloater, i like the all day breakfast kind of meal. I ask for this and am told they stopped serving the breakfasts at 11.30. I looked at my watch.

11.32

I asked them to be reasonable.

no

I pointed out I had joined the queue long before 11.30

no

I pointed to the array of sausages, bacon, beans etc on the hot tray things and told them to make up the contents of the Big Breakfast meal.

No, they couldnt do that.

If I hadnt been so hungry I would have walked out, but had bacon and sausages with some beans, which is pretty much the brekfast meal but without the tomato and egg.

I dont want to come accross as a moaning twat, but I will be writing a letter to the manager. The staffs attitude just took the piss. Fair enough I could understand them refusing if the time had been 12.30, but two minutes after their deadline?

nnnnnggggggggggg
:mad:
(dave likes cheese, Sat 14 May 2005, 21:33, Reply)

Petty Jobsworth? Hello.
I used to work in a scubby Uni bar and was, not unfairly, bitter towards the world.

I would often tell customers that placing your pint on, or standing at the bar wasn't allowed.

Got a lot of apologies and a lot less hassle. Soon all the bar staff were doing it.

I breed jobsworths!
(Northern Lovely, Sat 14 May 2005, 21:20, Reply)

oh dear
Damn, petty jobsworths really are reviled. Well, I am one. Woo yay.

I work in a coffee shop, not a fancy one, but a cheap, cheap place. Our clientele are truckers, old people, armies of kids, and the occasionally snotty person who comes in and treats me like a stupid piece of shit.

I don't like that sort of treatment. So I act like I'm either deaf or stupid, whatever I fancy at the time. Usually stupid. They go from sort of stern and ordering, to sympathetic (because they think I can't help it), to frustrated, to livid 'I want to see your manager'...and then beyond livid when I start to crack up and they realize I'm not stupid.
(dippingsauce, Sat 14 May 2005, 21:19, Reply)

There's nothing I love more
than doing my job to the point of annoying the customer.

Don't get me wrong, if you're a friendly person, I'll treat you with respect and gracefully perform requests and answer questions with a smile. But, if you come in treating me like a slave, I'll try my best to annoy you.

I work at a gas station. Seeing as how winter's over, there's no need to do this anymore. It was company policy to shut off the pumps when someone went back into their car. This proved very amusing for me. Shutting it off when they tried to protect themselves from the cold, they'd come out when they realized it was off and I'd turn it back on again. This went on until they became annoyed enough to come in and complain. I would then proceed to tell them our policy.

They thought that I would regret them never coming back.

This is just one of many services I offer.

(First post! Hoorah!)
(somethingwitty, Sat 14 May 2005, 17:51, Reply)

Only time I've been barred
This was a few years back. I think I was 22. My lass and I were having a drink when we wondered if we could find a friend of ours. It's a few minutes walk to a pub he used to go to and when we got there I went straight to the pool table and put 50p in. There's no cues - oh yeah, they keep them behind the bar, we can ask for them when we get drinks.

I was asked for ID by the middle-aged bloke behind the bar - first time at a pub in ages. Student card is no good (fair enough, it doesn't have a date of birth). Driving licence isn't acceptable either (no photo). Young person's rail card? No, brewery rules. Well, look, you've got photos and there's a bit of government ID with my DOB on it. Sorry, mate, brewery rules. Don't you believe I'm over eighteen? Brewery rules.

Girlfriend was a bit rude to him at this point, but I'm still trying to be reasonable (bad move, I just end up more annoyed when it doesn't work). We'll just get some non-alcoholic drinks. Nope, can't serve you anything. Oh, just the pool cues then. Nope.

Erm, can I get my 50p back?

No.

What, but that's theft! (this may not have been the smartest thing for me to say)

I end up shouting at him and drumming my knuckles on the bar in frustration whilst lass tries to get me to leave. I hit a drip tray, breaking it, and the landlord (I guess) comes along and throws me out. I was in a foul mood after that.

Grief that was a long story.
( Bagpuss, Sat 14 May 2005, 16:59, Reply)

bah
one word...

interferingbeardedcnut!
(tyler198125, Sat 14 May 2005, 16:00, Reply)

PRIME TIME!
Okay, so you know how if your dvd is scratched you usually dont have to pay for it? well this woman at prime time - ugh im too lazy to write the whole story, BUT SHE IS A POOP HEAD!
(bite_me38, Sat 14 May 2005, 15:17, Reply)

Photo Staff
Just in, went down to a photo shop with a CD Full of images that i wanted to print off many many copies off. big sign on the door says 22p a picture for 50 pictures. I have 12 images on my disk and want about 120 copies (10 of each) take my disk up nd get informed it will be 47p a picture as theres only 12 on the disk, if i come back with a 120 pictures on the disk i can have the cheaper rate.

which is what im burning in my drive now. If i wasnt in such as rush i would go somewhere else, but knowing the software on the terminals is it really that much of a effort to change the number of copies to 10 ?
(Chance1234 up for parole on, Sat 14 May 2005, 15:15, Reply)

NHS
i have suffered with severe back pain for years, i can only walk for very short distances, and haven't been able to work for ages. (not as fun as it sounds)

i first saw a consultant at the NHS 2 and a half years ago. i had an MRI scan and was told i had "mild" arthritis....i haven't.

1 and a half years later a different consultant told me i had 3 badly diseased discs and i needed and operation...he decided this by looking at the SAME scan as the first bloke!

eventually i got referred to a private hospital, except they referred me for the wrong thing.

months later ended up back at the NHS...waited around for fucking hours in the crappy arse out gown, only to be told they had lost the MRI scans and couldn't proceed.

the NHS did fuck all about it and i had to find the scans myself...they were still at private hospital.

turns out the scans were out of date.

i have had to have a new MRI scan (after waiting for a few more months)

i am back to where i was 2 and a half years ago....right at the bottom of the waiting list...all due to some twunt diagnosing me wrong, some fucker putting the wrong code on my referral form, and some badgercock losing my files.

now i am reduced to selling my guitars to try to pay the mortgage.

but it's ok...because the hospital have apologised.

wankers.
(robotrobotROBOT, Sat 14 May 2005, 15:08, Reply)

My efforts as a jobsworth...
Have rarely done the jobsworth thing to anyone and am always happy to meet reasonable requests even if it means bending the rules slightly. Once picked up a male English tourist in my ambulance from a medical center – he had been bungy jumping earlier that day and had now had palpitations, chest pain, shortness of breath, severe headache and his eyes had bugged out in true Marty Feldman style. I told him we would need to go to A&E urgently.
He had about 4 or 5 mates with him who were very concerned about him and they asked if we could give them a lift to hospital too.
I explained that I’m only supposed to take one passenger that can be properly seated and seatbelted, but they were really nice folk and we bundled/squashed them all in the ambulance (it was only a short journey.)

My Officer in Charge at the time (a tosser who commanded nil respect) got wind of it from some from bitchnurse friend of his, but couldn’t prove it. He proceeded to lecture me anyway on unauthorized use of an emergency response vehicle, Operating Procedures, Code of Conduct, etc, etc.

About a week later we picked up a patient and her friend came with us. Recognized the friend as the Officer in Charges’ girlfriend.
She was always a nightmare to everyone and constantly enjoyed reminding staff that her partner was our senior officer.
We were still at the hospital when she approached me to tell me that I was to drop her back at her home (which was on our way back to our station) and I delighted in telling her that I couldn’t do it, more than my jobs worth, etc.

Exactly as I hoped, she phones up the Officer in Charge who contacts me to instruct me to drop her home.
I took great pleasure in reminding him of the recent lecture he gave me.

She got a taxi.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Sat 14 May 2005, 13:52, Reply)

Not Me But a Friend
Got onto a bus and apparently put the wrong amount of cash into the box before getting his ticket - a whole 10p short. Bus driver suddenly pulls out one of those instant cameras where you get your pic right away and takes a pic of said friend, before accusing him of theft.

Said friend, in front of 20 passengers - one of whom happens to be a jounalist - then loudly accuses the sod of being all of the following:

"paedo" (he was 14 at the time),
"fat" (well he was a bus driver after all),
"cunt" (because he clearly was),
and many many more...

Driver doesnt particularly appreciate this, but of course can't get into a fight with a 14 year old so instead phones the police, who arrive to find everyone on the bus telling the driver what a worthless shit he was.

The driver was arrested (apparently - it may in fact be that he was replaced so police could have a little chat in the back of their car) for taking pictures of little boys but presumably got away with a warning. Friend ends up in paper with a big grin beside a bus, holding a full letter of apology from the bus company and a free travel pass for the rest of the summer.
(st3ve, Sat 14 May 2005, 12:56, Reply)

Safeway Zombie...
...at the till refused to serve me a packet of Nurofen with a bottle of cought syrup and some beechams powder at the same time. The reason beign of course that I could overdose on afforementioned. Attempting to explain that only one product actually contained paracetamol only caused to twunt to call security gaurd over! I then was forced to purchase the pills from one till, walk back around and buy the cought syrup from another and then treck back around and purchase the Beechams from a third till. Following much complainig to the manager and general kicking up of a stink I got all three products for free and enjoyed coming across said Moron scrubbing the toilets a week later :D

Complaints regarding length and/or girth in writing to the usual address.
( Manofmilk walks without rhythm but still attracts the worm, Sat 14 May 2005, 10:54, Reply)

english cunts in shops
who won't accept money with "ulster bank" or "bank of ireland" on the basis that it's "irish money"
explaining that ireland is actually on the euro, and these notes clearly have STERLING written on them in big letters generally makes them reply with "whu?"
and pointing out that these notes pass the exact same forgery tests as bank of england notes doesn't help either
( VampireMonkeyOnSpeed a super sexy sexual sex terrorist sex, Sat 14 May 2005, 8:21, Reply)

Stranded
On Tuesday, I went to a lovely little town called Needles. Anyone who lives in Southern California knows that you turn off at Needles to go to the river (Laughlin). They also know that it's approx 286 miles.

After doing my 15 minute job in Needles (I took four pictures) I turned around to come home. 100 miles from Needles, and 56 miles from the nearest town west of there is a place called Ludlow. It's a 1 horse town. It has a restaurant, 2 gas stations, a Dairy Queen and a tire and belt repair shop. (I'm just setting the scene).

So, I pull into the "town" for more gas and some food as I was starving. My transmission decided that now would be a good time to blow up. Mmmmmmmmmm, says me, there's a tire/belt replacement shop and in I walk.

Me: "Hi, my transmission just blew up"
Redneck: "How do you know?"
Me: "I can't get my car in gear, and there's transmission fluid leaking everywhere"
Redneck: "You've got an oil leak"
Me: "Nope, it's my transmission"
Redneck: "What would you knwo little lady?"
Me: "Okay, please can you look at it?"
Redneck: "No, I'm not authorized"
Blah blah, who the fuck is authorized? I'm stranded and miles from the nearest town.......etc. *sob*

The nice man from the gas station comes out and pops his head under the hood and told me what I already knew, then explained that the tire/belt shop really isn't allowed to do any work on the hunk of junk. At this point I'm 150 miles from home, and it's fucking obvious my transmission blew up, so I sob. Well I am a girl.
I call AAA (RAC equivalent) who will be there in an hour and a half. I ask the nice man in the gas station where I can go for a beer (knowing I can't drive at all that night). Ludlow is a DRY town. It's owned by a Mormon, no alcohol is allowed to be sold.
Here's where jobsworth comes in.............I had a 6-pack in the car that I picked up Needles as it was $2.50 cheaper. So I went into the gas station and grabbed a cup with some ice. Gas station guy comes out for a smoke while I'm pouring beer into my cup of ice. Yells across the parking lot "Ma'am, you can't do that. It's illegal in this town". 29 people stop and stare at me with a can of Bud in my hand. Gas station guy comes over and grabs the can from my hand and throws it onto the freeway! By this point, I'm sobbing. My car just blew up, I have to figure out how to get home and all I want is a FUCKING BEER!
Gasman goes inside. I sit in my car in the 90 degree heat and pour another beer into the cup.

That's probably the best beer I ever had. My car is still in the town 56 miles from there, the transmission is being overhauled and I need $2,000 to pay for it. Donations are welcome.
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Sat 14 May 2005, 7:09, Reply)

Wetherspoons twunts
Me and my friend went for a drink at the local Wetherspoons, only to be told that we would need to show our passports for ID purposes. Since we're both in our late twenties, I have greying hair and he's receding, and since the pub was just down the road and not in fucking France, neither of us had our passports with us.

And the place was full of underage chavs ayway.

EDIT: The only times I've been jobsworthy have been when someone has tried to pay with Scottish currency...they rant and rave in their incomprehensible gibberish aboot i' bean leeguh' tindah, while I calmly point out to them that while I have been trained to identify forged English banknotes, I have no way of knowing if they've just run their Bank of Clydesdale tenner off the colour photocopier. Winding up Scottish people is hilarious.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Sat 14 May 2005, 1:02, Reply)

its just a packet of lemsip...
Ok, so it was freshers week at uni and I ended up on the receiving end of the inevitable freshers flu. And I got it bad.

So off I pop to the campus shop (hey, I`m building up a nice rhythm to this story!) to get as much lemsip as possible. I pick up 2 packets of the extra strength shit and walk up to the counter where the lady at the till informs me

"I`m sorry, it contains ibuprofen (or something similar..I`m no chemist), by law we can only sell you one packet."

I was slightly taken back by this and still managed to joke "so if I went out and came back in again I suppose I`d be able to buy another?".

"yeah fine."

"oh! well cant I just walk over there then come back?"

"no. you`ll have to leave the shop first."

I pay for the first packet, leave the shop, walk back in again, pay for second packet, scratch my head.

Think this post is too long for a relatively unfunny story? Me too, but its ok I dont mind.
(widdy, Sat 14 May 2005, 0:29, Reply)

Walthamstow Job Centre
OK, it's like this....

In 2002, I was working as a contractor. (I'm in IT.) In the March, a contract finished, and the market dried up. Me, Mrs IZM & Son of IZM struggled on (income support but no mortgage payments because the work was finite - grr) but come autumn we needed to sell the house before someone sold it for us, if you catch my drift. The house 'made' a profit of £55K, but we only took away £3,500 - the rest was accumulated debt to Granny IZM (wife's mother), various cards etc.

So we sell up & move in with Granny IZM in E17. No choice. I go up to Walthamstow Job Centre and say, in my best cheery & polite manner, 'hello, I was signing on in Gravesend & now I need to sign on here.'

"Oh really Sir, why?"
"We've sold the house (& then explain it all)"
"Ah well you can only sign on if you have less than £8K savings. Can you prove the outgoings?"
"Of course. I'll supply a breakdown."

So I did. I am being ultra helpful, not concealing a damn thing, not lying at all here. I am Playing The Game.

And they came back and said I shouldn't have paid off £32K of debt as a whole; instead I should have serviced the interest instead until I'd worn it down to £8K, then they'd give me £100 less per month than the interest payment. Anyone care to spot what's just WRONG with that assertion? (Like it leaves me 3100 a month short before I've paid for little things like food, nappies etc.?)

Everything I told them was the 100% absolute truth, and I did my level best to keep my family afloat; but some small minded twunt thought otherwise and seemed to take joy in my circumstance. I wouldn't mind if they enforced a sensible rule, but to try to force an unemployed man NOT to wipe out £24K of debt WHEN HE CAN is just ridiculous. Arseholes. Pure unrelenting twatmongers, every bastard one of them.

So, to Walthamstow Job Centre and those people who worked there that spitefully and deliberately tried to push me under when I needed help, not one of your people was worth a shit. Sack them now.

Cnuts.

I did a stretch at the DSA in Nottingham, another pit of jobsworth fuckwittery which can also get regally fucked, but that's another story.

Take it from me though, the Civil Service, especially at mid-management levels, is where people go who are too shit at whatever they do to work in the real world. The only good people there were the union bods, and they were fucking top!
(InfiniteZenMaster, Sat 14 May 2005, 0:04, Reply)

i
desperately wish i'd been there for this one, but i know it's true, because there were witnesses.

anyhoo; one of my best mates has (unsurprisingly enough) a car. he also happens to look about 12. (sorry steve)
driving along, as you do, when a police car pulls him over. this car's got four coppers in it, and steve guesses what's coming at this point;
copper: "you know why i've pulled you over, right?"
steve: "um... could be that i don't look old enough, right?"
copper: "yep. you got your license and registration, then?" (clearly expecting to have trapped some chav joyrider at this point...)
steve: *long drawn out sigh* "yes. here y'are"
copper: "oh. bugger. right you are, then"

the copper passes it back to steve trying not to lose too much face in the process. this was not helped by one of the other coppers in the car sticking their head out of the window and yelling "so you'll be eating that hat, then?"

heh. sounds minor, but quite satisfying...
( nowhere.elysium Exploder of cats, Fri 13 May 2005, 23:08, Reply)

This probably doesn't count but anyway...
In a particular chain of a very popular pub in the UK (I won't name if they don't press charges) lets just call it 'Wetherspoons' I, even though two years underage, was frequenting the bar all night long. "pint of this please" - small stare at me, goes to get a drink, pay the man thanks very much. Two hours and slightly hazed mind later me and an un-named associate were about to leave when we noticed a sign for Reef's at 99p. Usually i think they are shit but i had a pound left to spend. We decide to get one for the road on our way out, when the same girl who had served me once or twice that night asks 'do you have any ID?' I just looked at her in disbelief. Did she really think the Reef's would be uber harmful or something?? Anyway I just laughed at her and left. bloody jobsworths and their laws!
(paintboy, Fri 13 May 2005, 22:39, Reply)

It's either buses or trains...in my case it's trains!
Me and a friend were getting on a train going out of guildford (which has the gates which you have to put your ticket though) and got on the train to the following stop.

In my wallet I have...or had a collection of train tickets from the past year of going to my friend's house...okay this was only about 15. I put my ticket in there persuming that I wouldn't need it.

The inspector came along, my friend showed his ticket. There i was for 5 minutes searching through my wallet for today's blasted ticket!

At which point the chappy got annoyed with me so I just gave him all my tickets (london tube tickets included) and made him find mine. He got pissed of and scribbled on mine, which he probably did to them all, but it annoyed me never-the-less then he told me to throw my old tickets in the bin...I thought best not to say anything to him, but what am I to do now when I've got nothing better to do than count train tickets?
(mrtinybrain, Fri 13 May 2005, 22:02, Reply)

Frenchy McFrench
Had a teacher, a French teacher. I would call her Frency McFrench but....can't be arsed.
She was alright enough but uber emotional and totally into her job.

We were complete polar opposites, but, being the (linguistically talented) idiot that I am, I decided to take French for A level.

Now, I was going through a hard time at that point, and falling behind in my other subjects.
Frenchy McFrench decided it was her calling in life to inform me of this.

At first I ignored it. Then I got mildly annoyed. Then it got to the point where I was begging the head of 6th form to let me drop the subject.

It ended when she came up to me and said 'Look. I've talked to all of your teachers, they all think you're quite awful. Especially in Sociology. The teacher doesn't really like you.'
I pointed out that I was sorting this shit with the appropriate teachers and maybe she should just concentrate on her subject.
'Oh no, it's my right to tell you how you're doing and what I think you should do.'
Hello, you're not my mother.

This quickly degenerated into a screaming row in the middle of the corridor where we both had to be restrained.
She was.....a nice person. Just interfered too much. Maybe not a jobsworthy. Just....yeah.

I'm pissed, ok?
(sporky, Fri 13 May 2005, 20:51, Reply)