Government waste...
The government building that I work out of was having about $150,000 worth of renovations done. Not really necessary but they 'needed' to spend it all before the end of the financial year.
They were throwing out some lovely tables, chairs, doors, monitors, cupboards, - a lot of the stuff would be ideal for someone renovating their home on a budget...like me.

Doing the right thing I contacted the project supervisors' secretary who told me to fill in forms XYZ to submit an offer to buy wanted items.
Fair enough I thought and submitted several fair bids - which got knocked back. I hadn't been outbid, in fact no other bids at all - the project supervisor just decided in his jobsworth wisdom that if he didn't notify each of several thousand employees of the chance to bid then he would be subject to "official grievances". He then also rejected my idea of donating the goods to a local charity shop (where of course I would suddenly appear and buy them for even less!) due to "liability concerns".

We were then instructed to ensure that all the goods were put in several industrial skips left out the front of the building. No surprise when all the decent bits had been scavenged by the public overnite - fair enough since it was taxpayers’ money in the first place.
I was then instructed to advice the local police of the "theft". On the police report I filled in "Stolen items details:" as "Miscellaneous rubbish from a skip". The police didn’t even bat an eyelid as they go through this sort of shit all the time.

On return to my workplace I spied an item that was too big to have gone in the skip being loaded onto a waste removal truck.
It was the main item I wanted and in near mint condition.
“Straight to the dump eh boys?” I asked the waste removal technicians. “Bollocks to that – I’m taking this home” came the reply.
He then informed me that the same jobsworth project supervisor who had knocked me back had okayed the waste guy to do what he wanted with any items he collected as he wasn’t subject to our Code Of Conduct or Grievance Procedure.

For fucks sake…
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Mon 16 May 2005, 2:48, Reply)

IT "efficiency"
I used to work for a news agency, and my department shared a floor with IT. I sat on the edge of our section, so that my monitor was back-to-back with an IT bod's monitor.

One day they changed the way that IT enquiries were dealt with. Our previous system of shouting "Oi! Four Eyes - I can't access my email." had been replaced with an elaborate new system of calling IT to log a fault, and then waiting for a call back from one of the IT guys, who'd tell you to try restarting your machine before letting you know how long it'd be before someone could come and deal with the problem in person.

Even though I was sat not 2 metres away from the guy that took most of the calls, I still had to ring him. And the f*cker delighted in putting me to the bottom of the list every single time, even though I could see every last one of them playing Freecell or reading Snopes.
(dandelionburdock, Mon 16 May 2005, 1:18, Reply)

Annoying Sky man and his weird rules
We moved last December, and took our Sky box with us as we were going to get a dish installed at the new place.

Man turns up with dish the week before Christmas, takes one look at the house and says "I won't be able to install this, mate".

He explains that our house is "rendered". This means that the bricks on the outside of the house are really roughly concreted over and painted to give a wanky sandblasted effect. He can't install it himself as Sky only issue their guys with one length of bolt, which won't go far enough into the wall because of the extra centimetre of brick.

So, he gives me the bracket that forms the base on the wall to which the dish is to be attached, tells me to fit it myself and then ring Sky Customer Services. Says the only way they'll be able to sort it out is if I do that and then say "there's already a bracket at my house - can you send someone round to put a dish on it?"

So, I - a mild vertigo sufferer - had to climb up a ladder with a hammer drill, fit it myself and then lie to the man's colleague on the phone.
(dandelionburdock, Mon 16 May 2005, 1:06, Reply)

Post Office ignorance
I needed $30 cash for an ebay transaction, and also needed an application form for a passport as I was about to go on my first holiday abroad.

Me: Can I have a passport application form please?
PO woman: Certainly sir (hands it over). Will there be anything else?
Me: Yes - can I have $30 in cash please?
PO woman: May I see your passport please?
Me: ...
(dandelionburdock, Mon 16 May 2005, 0:49, Reply)

Quick note about earlier post moaning about Wetherspoons
JD Wetherspoon does not exist. Their MD is called Tim Martin.

JD - from the real name of Dukes Of Hazzard's Boss Hogg
Mr Wetherspoon - Tim Martin's old geography teacher.

The missus used to work there y'see, and the company's new employee booklet is big on backstory.
(dandelionburdock, Mon 16 May 2005, 0:45, Reply)

several examples of jobsworthness.
Just below Junction 31 there's a Welcome Break called Woodall services, which is a proper shite hole. I used to work in the Granary, which is basically the restaurant where they charge huge amounts of money for a crappy meal. When I worked there you had to charge 10p for sachets of tommy k and brown sauce and mustard, now if I got a nice family who were spending upto £40 for a meal for 4 I'd throw the sachets in for nothing. However next door was a McD's who used to run out of sauces, and when they ran out of sauces I would make all of their customers pay for every individual sachet. The same with all the business men who got it on expenses anyway.

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

I'm now a telephone monkey dealing with people increasing their mortgages, when they want to borrow more they speak to me or my colleagues, and after 20 minutes we tell them, if they are nice but don't have all the information we need then I'm really polite and wait whilst they find the relevant information. If they are twats however I tell them to call back when they have all the information.
I like being petty and jobsworth with rude individuals, and I'll go out of my way to help polite customers who treat me like a human being.
(Lord Monkey of Yorkshire,OBE killed a gipsy on...., Sun 15 May 2005, 23:01, Reply)

I'm a completey utter twat of a jobsworth
mainly because the general public are always trying to pull a fast one on us Busdrivers and any shortchanging comes directly out of our wages and not the profits of the bus company.

One chavy kid got on at the Meadowhall Interchange and asked initially for a 40p concessionary child's fare. I thought fair enough I can't be arsed to even ask him for his concessionary pass as I want to press on and have more than enough of arsey back-chatting kids. But then he changes his mind and asks for a Child Return Ticket instead. Now it's common knowledge amongst the busdrivers that kids are using Child Return Tickets as All Day Saver Tickets and riding for 80p all day long. But it's not for me to judge whether this kid is legit or not so I punches him out his Child Return ticket and takes his 80p.

Suddenly...

"Hey hang on I already have a Child Return Ticket!" the brain of Britian says and quickly produces it. So I'm in the process of handing him his money back and cancelling the ticket I'd issued. But first as with all Child Returns you must punch holes in them to stop them being used over and over again. The chav then looks at his ticket now complete with holes and sparks up "Errrr... I'll have that one too!" Pointing to the ticket he had rejected. Now paint me thick and call me Thicko McThickie but I've never heard of any kid actually wanting to pay twice for a bus ride and so I promptly annulled the ticket handed him back his 80p and said "Sorry but this ticket has to be cancelled."

Jobworth? Perhaps. But it fills me with joy to see a thick twatty chav slip on his own warped logic.
( maiden is filmed before a live studio audience, Sun 15 May 2005, 22:15, Reply)

today
I was doing some shopping for dinner at my local co-op.

After my chicken, veg, etc. had been bleeped through I asked for some rizlas.
'Have you any ID?' asks the spotty twunt opposite.
'no' says I.
I didn't realise you needed Id to buy rizzlas but apparently so.
Anyway, I paid with my CREDIT CARD and DROVE to the PUB to have a pint and buy some over priced B&H!
( PhoenixBlend, Sun 15 May 2005, 22:11, Reply)

Oi, That aint a monkey .....
You probably needed id because you look your mental age.

Racist twunt.
(nevin Sharpness is a bourgeois concept, Sun 15 May 2005, 22:02, Reply)

At my TSB
Me : Hello, I'd like to make a payment onto my credit card please. I'd like to take two hundred off this card *shows debit card* and pay it onto this *shows credit card* Both cards in my name.

Do loop until crazy = true

TSB bitch : Have you got any id?
Me : Wha? *fumbles around* no.
TSBb : Can't do it then.
Me : Why not?
TSBb : Security, that could be a stolen card?
Me : Why would I be paying into a stolen card?
TSBb : You could have maxed it out, and be wanting to top it up
Me : That's crazy, people don't make payments on stolen cards
TSBb : They might. Those cards might belong to someone else
Me : Why would I be paying someone else's credit card?

Loop
( bowdie, Sun 15 May 2005, 21:42, Reply)

To all the smarty pants and pedants amongst us....
Scottish notes aren't even legal tender in Scotland - neither are English notes actually.

See here you .....
www.scottish.parliament.uk/business/research/briefings-03/sb03-51.pdf
(DrMarvello making rabbits appear out of hats since, Sun 15 May 2005, 21:34, Reply)

Tried to pay in a cheque once
I use my middle name - nobody's called me by my first name for years. I've had loads of cheques in this name and never has there ever been a problem with it. Apart from one notable incident...

It was extraordinarily busy that afternoon, so I joined the back of the queue like the good English girl that I am, and waited. And waited. A spectacularly smelly old man joined the queue behind me, stood just that little bit too close and emitted bizarre grunting noises at regular intervals. I waited some more.

Twenty minutes later and the terminally cheerful phrase, "Please go to cashier three" signalled my escape route from Smelly Old Man. I scuttled up to the counter and found myself face to face with a bony woman in her mid-thirties with peroxide hair, who will henceforth be referred to as "HSBC Bitch." The conversation went thus:


HSBC Bitch: Good afternoon, how may I help you?

Me: I'd just like to pay this cheque in, please. (deposits paying in book on counter)

HSBC Bitch: (Grimaces at cheque) It's in a different name. (Fixes me with saccharine smile)

Me: Yeah, that's my middle name.

HSBC Bitch: (Still smiling) This account belongs to a Miss L Ginsberg. This
cheque is made out to a Samara Ginsberg.

Me: Yes, I know, Samara's my middle name. I've had loads of cheques in this
name before and there's never been a problem...

HSBC Bitch: Well, the other cashiers can't have been doing their jobs
properly. How do I know that's your name?

Me: Well, you must have my full name on file, because there has never, ever
been a problem with this.

HSBC Bitch: Well, I can't find it on my computer. I can't process this
transaction. It hasn't even got your name on.

Me: It must be there somewhere. Frankly I don't see the problem. I've been
queuing for half an hour in the olfactorally repugant company of Wurzel
Gummidge and I'm not leaving until you process this cheque.

HSBC Bitch: I can't let you pay that in. How do I know it's made out to you?

Me: Look, I'm PRE MENSTRUAL!

HSBC Bitch: Security!


And so, I was escorted from the bank.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Sun 15 May 2005, 20:04, Reply)

10 items or less you twunt
Perhaps working on express checkouts has made me a hardened soul who now prays for firey death on cunts who can't read the '10 or less please' sign. My problem is the arses who come up with 20 or so and try to act cheeky by saying 'oh well love, this three are the same so they count as one'.

I take great joy in tilling these items then asking for the money. If I'm given two twenty notes I giggle as sweetly as fucking possible and remind them 'sorry sir/madem, these are the same and by your logic count as one. I'm going to need more money from you I'm afraid'.

The worried look on their faces makes me feel all warm inside everytime.
(ladyremo, Sun 15 May 2005, 18:26, Reply)

Jabba the Hutt
I used to work in a call centre and my manager was a right arse-faced cow (Jabba was her nick name). One of her greatest moments was introducing a flag that we had to put on our monitor whenever we were away from our desks. For "being away from desk", read "doing toilet". Honestly, if you needed to crimp one off you had to get the flag and put it on your monitor first. Twenty operators and the one flag.
The idea was scrapped after me and my mate would loudly ask "where's the flag, 'cos I'm dying for a shit!"
Apparently, according to her, they do it all the time down South (she was from Essex)...
Apologies for boringness
(Ghostlight, Sun 15 May 2005, 18:04, Reply)

just to add to the confusion....
re bank notes, legal tender etc....

Stamps are legal tender also, but you try getting the fu$kwit jobsworth down your local shop to accept them for a packet of fags or a paper....
(Aleister Crowleys Badger Nothing to see here, Sun 15 May 2005, 17:45, Reply)

I remember pissing myself laughing when I heard that
my friend went down to the Post Office to fill in a form of some kind, and needed proof of who he was. They wanted a gas bill or a driver license. He didn't drive, and didn't have a gas bill (because his parents paid it) so he proceeded to pull out every item in his wallet to prove who he was - his Student Card, Student Residency Card, NUS Card and bus pass (which all had his pictures on), his debit and credit cards, etc.

The woman behind the till, who was about 40, replied that he didn't look like the man on those cards. This would be fine if he didn't have a mohican in both real life and the photos (granted, they were different colours), as well as around a dozen piercings in his head.

So, he had to go home and pick up a student finance letter to prove he was who he said he was. After waiting in the queue for half an hour, he walked over to the counter (which was the only one left open), only for the woman to say "Sorry, counter closed" before he could hand the form in that an hour's round trip had given him.

He was escorted out by two security guards after throwing the RNLI charity box through the window.
( TGP on the rock 'n' roll, Sun 15 May 2005, 17:31, Reply)

Scottish Notes (reply)
It's when English traders look at a Scottish banknote as if it's some alien piece of paper that has been spat on by the devil himself that pisses me off! Water Stall staff at the Leeds Festival being an example - "Why are you trying to use fake money here? Do you think you're funny?"... uhh
(Jillish, Sun 15 May 2005, 17:29, Reply)

To people moaning about Scottish & Northern Irish banknotes
And I quote from Wikipedia: "Bank of England notes are the only banknotes that are legal tender in England and Wales. Scottish, Northern Ireland, Jersey, Guernsey and Manx banknotes are not legal tender in England and Wales. However, they are not illegal under English law and creditors and traders may accept them if they so choose."

Sorry.
(ryry, Sun 15 May 2005, 17:23, Reply)

University Housing
Ok, September 2000 attempting to register for third year of Uni. I'd decided to move into University owned flats for the final year. This meant all rent and other payments went straight into the university, reducing the chance of being ripped off by dodgy landlords.
Anyway, got my documents and plastered in the bottom right corner was the word, "DEBT". This debt was the summer rent, not due to be paid until the end of October.
So I head to the Ballroom in an attempt to register. Queue for around an hour before reaching someone. They scan my documents in and say, "Sorry, you can't register, you've got an outstanding debt on the system."
"But that isn't due until October, can't it be bypassed?"
"No, sorry, you need to go pay it."
"Then can I have my loan cheque?"
"No, you can only have that after you're registered."
"So I can't register until I clear the debt, which I need my loan for, and I can't get my loan until I'm registered?"
"No."
"I'll be back, can I jump the queue" (Something I knew you could do from the previous year).
"No."
So, eventually I sort all this out with the Housing office (another 2 hours of life wasted) and get registered by being sickeningly polite.
Bastards the lot of them.
(James_Doc, Sun 15 May 2005, 15:59, Reply)

another fine mess (morgan) stanley
everything needs a fekkin security password or pin ... including credit cards ... opened a credit card account with morgan stanley back at beginning of 2004 (0% interest offer), registered, then never had to talk to them again until 15-16 months later when i discover i can track the account via their website ... it asks me for a security password ... fek it, no idea (made up a number once, never wrote it down because that's insecure, then surprise surprise it slips from mind) ... so decide to call them ... go through the various "no i am not a terrorist money launderer" stages of inputting numbers until i get to a human being (loosely speaking) ... before i can tell her the problem (don't know my security thingie) she screetches a demand for full name at me, then the security password. "ah now, that's exactly why i'm..." more officious jobsworthery followed ... once i got her to shut up so i could explain, i ask can i change it on the phone? no. i have to write to them. do they accept emails? no. how will they know it's me if i post a letter? no response. i hang up and fire off an email. 48 hrs later, no reply. i send another. a week later no reply. i give in and snailmail the bastards in glasgow. a pro-forma non-response to my emails then turns up in the post "promising" a response inside ten days. still waiting. aaaargh
( writerblock ... embedding disabled by request on, Sun 15 May 2005, 14:47, Reply)

"True story"?
www.snopes.com/crime/clever/cigarson.asp
(Captcheese, Sun 15 May 2005, 14:38, Reply)

last one from me
true story of U.S 'justice' system.

A top U.S 'Lawyer' buys one of the world's most expensive boxes of cigars. Worth half a million. He insures them against FIRE and promptly smokes them, claiming the massive insurance payout. His claim being "they were destroyed in a series of small fires." nice Jobsworthery.
However the cigar merchants being richer employed a bigger jobsworth who manged to prosecute and JAIL the smarmy lawyer....for ARSON.
Jobsworths run your nations people. Lawyers are presidents and prime ministers...
(Timmy Christmas, Sun 15 May 2005, 14:27, Reply)

Jobsworth 2
During the height of the U.S authored global airport paranioa I was divested of a 12 inch long silver chain on the grounds that
"you could get that around someone's neck mate"
i replied
"that's right, you can. It's a necklace."

They were so contrite and amused they explained as I only had about 30 seconds or a minute to make my flight I could post it to myself, presumably from the hovering mobile post office that would maybe appear, or they could throw it away in the big open bin they kept next to them, or I could turn around. I had to throw it. It was solid silver and worth more than the flight and possibly their months wages. Unfortunately the wages for me at the other end were needed. I hope they sold it and had a good laugh at me while they drank the proceeds.
(Timmy Christmas, Sun 15 May 2005, 14:21, Reply)

Virgin Megastores
I recently went to the local Virgin Megastore to buy my sister a birthday present and try and get a weekend job. I find the chick-flick DVD that she asked for (rated 15) and go to the till. After waiting about 20 minutes for the idiot behind the counter to process a customer's credit card on a return and a purchase SIMULTANEOUSLY, a feat which involved calling no less than 3 other members of staff, inculding the manager I'm finally served. Naturally, I'm ID'd; the emo bastard serving me not believing that I'm older than 14. I show him my National Insurance Card, my bank card and my bus pass, but he won't accept any of them as valid ID.

Somehow managing not to shout at him I ask if I could get a job application form. "No." is the reply. I ask why not, and am immediately told "We don't have anything available until next Christmas" (this being January). Could I maybe have one anyway so that I'll be first on the list for then? Again I'm refused. I ask what would happen if someone decided to leave. He looks at me blankly and refuses again. I walk out of the shop in disgust and buy the DVD at Woolworths instead, where I'm served with no problems.

I haven't been back.
( MooCow_Byter, Sun 15 May 2005, 14:19, Reply)

Jobsworths
My mate and I were on a train crossing the Swiss border. The Swiss border guards came up on us while my mate was whizzing his tits off on base amphetamine. He is also a real Lord, a peer of the realm despite appearances. The guard kept insisting he see more identification than his passport (which took too long and much clumsy speed-faffing to find) to corroborate his peerage. They also did all this in Swiss-German which is particualrly hard to follow. Jobsworth guard gave himself away as understanding english perfectly when my mate turned round and screamed "give me 5 fucking minutes you fucking neutral bastard-gold-hoarding-pedantic fucking snow nazi". In reply the jobsworth merely went white and wandered off in a daze... possibly to look up some words.
(Timmy Christmas, Sun 15 May 2005, 14:04, Reply)

Barclays
Just had a largeish amount paid into my old Barclays Current Account, which I thought I'd closed ages ago (fairs fair - Halifax should have closed it as part of their transfer service.)
Anyway - this money is in an account with an old address (haven't been there for 6 months) and I haven't used that account for 3 years.
Will they help me? Only if I have photo ID. I don't drive, nor do I have a passport.
So - by phone - I manage to pass the security details, and they're all very helpful, and then they ask "Are you at the same address?" I laugh slightly, and tell them that was the problem, I've changed address and...
The fuckers terminated the call.
Well, finally I've sorted out a passport, gone into a branch, and accessed the money. Dozy-bright-eye assistant is obviously overwhelmed to help me when I say, "Of course, I'm actually looking to invest in a Savings Account!"
"Oh, we have a wide range, would you be interested."
"No," say I, and proceed to list all the fuckups and mistakes they made that made me transfer my account 3 years ago, and then add the petty mindedness they put me through for the past few weeks.
End of the conversation, and the assistant is twitching, the personal banker on the next desk is hiding, and the long queue of people behind me are very quiet.
*sigh*
Treat them with the contempt they deserve...
(zane, Sun 15 May 2005, 11:24, Reply)

Have recently discovered that...
...the internet filter for the Department of Work and Pensions refuses to let you view b3ta, as they have classfied the site as "useless".

That's rich coming from the place that runs the fucking Child Support Agency.
( Dr.A, Sun 15 May 2005, 10:56, Reply)

In response to VampireMonkeyOnSpeed's post below...
I used to be a Jobsworth sales assistant, and refuse Scottish as well as foreign currency, and for good reason. Scottish notes are not legal tender (even in Scotland), only Bank of England notes are. As a side note, the only legal tender in Scotland is technically the £1 and £2 coins, although there have been historical exceptions to this. In Scotland, Bank of England notes are only an accepted form of currency in the same way Credit/Debit cards are.

As a side side note, legal tender does not mean that the given form of payment "must" be accepted, but rather "should". An assistant can still refuse to accept the tender if he is uncertain.

Normally there would be no problem, but in busy shopping districts there can be major problems with forgeries since some twunts realise that there are stupid sales assistants that don't know how to recognise real Scottish banknotes.

Now when I was serving a stuck up prat who whittered on about how I had to accept their form of payment because it was "legal tender", I explained to them that their money was only an accepted form of currency and promptly showed him the door, and then the nearest bank where he could get proper money.

On the other hand, if the customer was courteous and polite throughout the transaction, and tried to pay with Bank of Scotland notes I would, of course, accept.
(Captain Skippy pooed in a bag and left it on your doorstep, Sun 15 May 2005, 10:25, Reply)

my fun day at LAX
five years ago myself and the g/f were flying to the states to get married (at vegas, with elvis, classy me.) we land at LAX and have to go through Immigration. They give us a nice form to fill in with details of where we're staying. now we're staying with friends and didn't actually think to get their address before we left, what with them picking us up from the airport. So we get up to the counter and say this and the big immigration guard with his gun gets shirty and makes us queue up somewhere else. Here the friendly immigration guard says 'just put 15 springfield drive, there's a springfield drive in every town in america'. so we do, and go back to the first guard, who knows we don't know where we're staying but he's happy now and let's us through. Onto passport control. The g/f's passport has an old pic in of her with dreadlocks. This causes confusion and 'are you sure this is you?' questions.

Eventually we're through and into the customs hall. The family in front of us with no baggage except a big clear bag of brown powder is let through no problems. The g/f is let through no problems. me? Suitcase on the desk, 'can you open this for me sir?'. So he goes through my suitcase piece by piece asking happy questions as we go along. We get to 2 books i've bought over for my friend. Ecstasy and Malibu Stork Nightmares by Irvine Welsh (it was hard getting IW books back then apparently). He picks up Ecstasy and stares at it for a couple of minutes. Me: 'it's just a book.' he looks at me, at the book, at me again 'Do you take drugs sir?' Me: 'Um, no' Him: 'Now don't lie to me' Me: 'Err, well not in the last ten hours' Him: stony face. looks at book again. Me 'c'mon, it's just a book, same bloke who wrote trainspotting' Him: 'that book about, err, heroin' Me: 'err yeah'. Now, my bumflaps are starting to fwap, i'm seriously thinking i'm about to be hauled off for an intimate body search, but he suddenly gets bored and let's me through with a wholly inappropriate 'have a nice day'. we get through to outside to be met by our friend and his big homemade 'Welcome to America, we love Brits' banner. Ha

To this day i'm convinced this was all because i joked about importing snails on the plane (you're not allowed to import snails to america. it says so on the landing card)

apologies for the length etc.
(andysith vs. the becardiganed mousethra. EEK, Sun 15 May 2005, 8:36, Reply)