'fuck you, and goodnight!
A good many several years ago i was unfortunate (or stupid enough) to have made what we shall gloss over as some 'unfortunate lifestyle choices' which left me unemployed. i managed to after much fruitless searching, find a pub job.
now this place was a godfosaken shithole. it's busiest time was dole day- all the horrible skank mums and deadbeta dads would bring their illegitimate brood of rodent-children in to roll in the greasy threadbard filth of the carpets and eats while they drank away their money.

i SHOULD have been more wary when the landlord decided i MUST work my first shift or be fired, despite having food poisoning and shitting/puking every 20 mins or so, pale and sweating profusely.

i SHOULD have been more wary when after my first week i asked my hours for the next and was told 'yeah the idea is, you have the same hours every week yeah? what are you retarded?' only for me to be sitting quietly at home on what had been a day off the week previously only to get a phone call, incoherent with rage he was, screaming if i wasn't in in twenty mins i was fired.

i SHOULD have been more wary even, when i realised the man was a raving alcoholic who alternated his time between beating his kids, beating his thai mail order bride 1/2 his age who spoke NO english (i shit you not!) and drinking endless scotch then passing out upstairs leaving me alone in the bar.

so one day dole day rolls around, a woman, who's a regular AND a friend of the landlord, passed out and fell off her chair. turns out she'd had chemo that morning and the booze was just too much for her. the paramedics needed to check if she was breathign, which required me turnnig off the jukebox.. the controls for which were in a locked store cupboard, the keys to which were on the landlord's keyring.. he was upstairs with the door locked, passed out.
after screaming at him and eventually jemmying the lock with a screwdriver, i grabbed the keys and told him what was going on. he told me to fuck off.


so i opened the store cupboard, turned off the jukebox, and once the paramedics left, i very loudly and clearly shouted up the stairs (in full hearing of the miscreant dole-hound drinkers) 'right, that's it, you're a CUNT, i quit. i've left my till key in the till, the store room is open so you can turn the jukebox back on, everyone: serve yourselves, he'll be right down'
and promptly fucked off with a bottle of jack and a bottle of vodka.


the guy i worked with who turned up for that night said they pretty much cleaned the place out.
result!
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Sun 25 May 2008, 16:05, Reply)