I bought my three year old son a goldfish.
I had to complete an animal welfare form before they'd let me take it home.
( Muns, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 22:25, 3 replies)

France is the spiritual home of petty officials.
A friend of mine told me the story this week of how she had wanted to organise a "clean up our parks" initiative, the gist of which was to round up a bunch of people and spend the afternoon in one of the local parks putting all the rubbish they found in bags and then disposing of it safely. She contacted the local town hall about it, who informed her that she'd need a permit if there were going to be more than 20 people in the same place for the same purpose, as that fell under the law on public gatherings. Applying for this permit cost money, needless to say.

She also had to make sure her own insurance covered the potential acts of the people who would be there for the event, in case she or any of her friends damaged the site; her gut reaction was "We're going to pick up rubbish; what the fuck are we supposed to be damaging? Are you afraid we'll step on a blade of grass and condemn it to a slow and painful death?". In the end, the town hall staff dragged their feet so much in giving her the permit that she had to push back the date of the event by a fortnight, and she applied for the permit four months in advance.

All of this was depressingly familiar to me. A friend of a friend at a dinner party once explained the French bureaucrat's attitude to work as: "If I don't have the original form requiring the paperwork in my right hand and the paperwork itself in my left hand at a given moment, the request is clearly fishy and I'm going to chuck it in the bin." You have to declare your local GP in France in order to get your healthcare costs reimbursed by the State, and when I sent the social security fund the form saying my local GP is Dr. X and his surgery is located at Y location, they hadn't received the corresponding attestation from Dr. X himself, so the mouthbreathers just sent the entire 5-page form back to me with all my information crossed out and giant question marks scribbled over every page. Brainless fucks.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 22:12, 10 replies)

I deleted some words off a website once.
And half a dozen petty-minded internet bureaucrats wet themselves in anger.
( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 21:08, 4 replies)

I'm not registered with a GP,
and don't even know where the nearest one is. I feel I'm missing out on a rich source of anecdotes.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 20:35, 2 replies)

I book appointments through the internet like a normal person.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 20:31, 2 replies)

I work at a newsagent's and this bloke came in
and asked for a copy of Razzle.
I told him to get in the queue because the doctor's receptionist had booked it for when the mechanic had read it.
( edjogs Collared doves are shit., Thu 27 Mar 2014, 20:25, Reply)

Gave BT a call the other day because I was having trouble with my broadband.
For some reason they couldn't help me over the phone, I was told to write the problem down, seal it in an envelope and leave it with my GP.
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 20:23, Reply)

I work in a garage next to a doctor's surgery
The other day the doctor's receptionist had some trouble starting her car and popped in to see if somebody could take a look.

I told her she had to telephone and ask for somebody to come out, "because that's the way it's done" so she stood in front of my desk, got her mobile out and called me and asked if somebody could come and look at her car.

Unfortunately all my mechanics were busy out the back reading Razzle so I told her to call again tomorrow.
( Ghoti Fingers, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 20:21, Reply)

I got stepped for being an internet prick on a website for internet pricks.
Seems a bit petty.
(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 20:14, 4 replies)

The receptionist at my last doctor's surgery wouldn't let me book an appointment over the counter.
"But I was passing," I insisted.

She shuffled her papers and refused. No way. Appointments had to be booked by phone. So I pulled my mobile out, stood there making the call, and booked an appointment.

Is this normal?
(IHateSprouts is baking a huge pie shaped like an enormous pie, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 20:07, 11 replies)

Pet shop
When I was eighteen odd (and odd) I worked for a pet shop which was part of a chain. Fun job for the young me and I was dedicated. The chain had some fairly customer focused ideas, one of which was offering customers a hot beverage on cold days. We were allocated a supply of teabags, coffee etc which one winter morn ran out.
Being a dedicated soul I ran out and bought some Tetleys out of my own tiny wage, only to be told we couldn't serve the customers anything that wasn't from an 'approved vendor'.
In a fit of pique I took a bag and flung it into the largest fish tank on the premises, one that contained several different groups of types of fish. While it did murk the tank up the different groups did seem to rather enjoy the addition to their tank, genuine displays of affection were witnessed (as much as you can tell with fish anyway).
That was the last time I encountered pet tea of fish shoals.
(Oooh_cuntroversial Where have I been?, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 18:41, 7 replies)

During my short stint as a semi-petty semi-official
I discovered that the vast majority of requests for my services would vanish if I simply ignored them.
(the other guy not the one that gave you coochie warts, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 18:33, 3 replies)

Chili Dogs
Not so much a petty official, but jobs-worthyness taken to a new level:

At uni, I wandered past a hot dog vending stand between classes and suddenly decided I wanted one of those tubes of nameless meat in a piece of bread. I approach the stand, manned by a person who I think may have just peaked in their career path.

Me: I'll take a hotdog please.
Mouthbreather: We're selling chili-dogs.
Me: Can I get one without the chili then please, I just want a hot dog.
MB: No - we're selling chili-dogs, you have to have the chili.
Me: but I don't want the chili.
(repeat several times to the astonishment of those around and the small crowd forming to watch)
Me: Ok - fine, I'll take one.
MB: *pulls hotdog from pot, puts in bun, spoons on chili, hands to me*
Me: *takes hotdog, slowly, carefully and completely, scrapes chili off hotdog onto stand*
MB: *Stares blankly at pile of chili*
Me: "Thanks! Have a nice day!" and I walk off happily chewing my chili-free hot dog.
.
.
( gp_guineapig, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 18:15, 8 replies)

On Monday, our head office (which is run by an Australian media magnate now resident in the US) sent round someone from HR to make a bunch of people redundant.
My job was one of those that they wanted to take away, leaving me without gainful employment, though there was the suggestion that I could find employment elsewhere in our generous benefactor's business empire.

This morning I took my manager aside for a chat before work began and she agreed that it might be better all round if I remained in my current position, doing the same work as I am doing now, for the same salary. And that she'd sort it out with M******'s HR department.

All that time I spent reading Game of Thrones really paid off, I guess.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 17:28, 17 replies)

I win, so you might as well give up now.
www.b3ta.com/questions/jobsworths/post31461

I never nonce-punched a copper, mind.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 17:18, Reply)

Last week I was at work and ...
Mandy the receptionist told me I shouldn't be drinking my can of coke at my desk.

'It's Pepsi actually!' I shouted back.

Mike the IT guy laughed at my 'zing'.

Ahhh, petty officelolz.
(Galahad is out of his gourd on yellow bentines, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 16:33, 9 replies)

Basically, I wasn't allowed to wear my favourite trousers to a funeral.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 16:25, 11 replies)

Before any of you cunts mention festival security....
If you hurt yourselves or trash anything, we have to fill out paperwork. Lots of fucking paperwork. When you're working 16 hour shifts for five days straight and sleeping less than five hours per night in a tent, you hate paperwork even more.

We want you to enjoy yourselves and have fun, it improves the weekend for us when you do, but you don't have to be a tit to enjoy yourselves. Especially when it means us having to complete fucking paperwork.
( Muns, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 16:12, 15 replies)

I'm very much looking forward to fifty lifeless plodders
recounting their Daily Mail Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells complaints about parking fines, bin collections and the smoking ban.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 16:07, 10 replies)

My friend Patricia Hall married a Irishman with and odd surname and had 5 kids.
Oddly enough, this story would also fit into last week's QOTW as, in a fit of faux-social climbing she opted for a double-barreled name on tying the knot.
Anyways, in my village now if you see a ginger child with big ears, chance are it's one of Patty O'Fish-Hall's.
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 16:00, 3 replies)

doctor's receptionist
this happened to me recently:
me: "can i make an appointment to see the doctor?"
receptionist: "i can't give you an appointment unless you phone up."
me: "but i'm right here, why can't you give me an appointment?"
receptionist: "i just can't, you'll have to phone. there's a phone box outside."
me: "seriously? you're going to make me go to the phone box FIVE FEET OUTSIDE THE FRONT DOOR just to phone up for an appointment?"
receptionist: "well, i can't give you an appointment unless you do. it's been like that for ages."
me: "then why did the receptionist last week give me an appointment when i came in?"
receptionist: "i don't know! she shouldn't have! now, if you want an appointment, you'll have to phone for one."
frustrated, i walked to the phone box outside, from where i could be clearly seen by the receptionist. i inserted my coin and dialled the number.
receptionist: "hello, doctor's surgery, can i help?"
me: "yes. can i make an appointment to see the doctor, please?"
receptionist: "sorry, we've got none left. call back tomorrow."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 15:56, 14 replies)

Is a refuse collector an official?
Ours seem to go through the recycling with a fine toothed comb, and if they find something they don't like, they leave the lot.

We have also been challenged about recycling food. They give out those nasty smelly plastic bins that you are told to put food scraps in, but I have one of those food grinder things in the sink, so we don;t have any waste to throw.

What is obvious is that they don't give a toss what goes where, they just have the ability to fuck with people, and do so gleefully.
(username failed moderation, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 15:52, 12 replies)

Tube staff in charge of the luggage gate.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 15:12, 5 replies)

I seem to recall a whole messageboard getting stepped.
Something to do with sheds.
( Muns, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 15:12, Reply)

I got a post about getting a ten paragraph lorem ipsum onto the popular page of an 'anecdote' messageboard onto the popular page of an 'anecdote' website
and the dopey cunts still won't accept that it's dead on its arse.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 15:09, 38 replies)

I remember being ID'd once in Asda for booze by some spotty teenager.
Little Hitler.
( GeordieJay Bummers are deaf, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 15:08, 15 replies)

Second the best
Third the hairy princess :(
( GeordieJay Bummers are deaf, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 15:07, 3 replies)

Last

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Thu 27 Mar 2014, 15:06, Reply)

First.

( Pig Bodine., Thu 27 Mar 2014, 15:06, Reply)