Tesco slags
bout a year and a half ago i started working as a male checkout-whore in the Great Notley Tescos. Little did my current employers know that i was looking for other, non-retarded jobs at the time, and after being there just a week i found myself being accepted for an office junior role in a firm of colchester-based accountants (my current job to this day).

I was starting said new job on a Monday, and so had decided to make the Friday my last day at Tescos, regardless of the fact that i was supposed to work 9 hours on the Saturday. So Friday afternoon comes round and i had told pretty much every fat 50 yr old gossip-hound working there that i was leaving, but had so far been too chickenshit to tell my manager, a timid, scowelling woman in her mid 30s who looked lke she had a lemon up her arse and wasn't liking it one bit.

So anyway, i gets called into a meeting with said scowling woman and another manager who, having heard from some fucking Windowlicker on produce about my proposed departure, decide to lecture me for 15 minutes whilst constantly using phrases like "It's just not on" and "really let us down here" and all that Wank. So toward the end of their highly impressive speech, my manager tells me that i "simply have to work Saturday" as my last day, because apparently i'm required to "meet her half-way" (referring to the fact that they're still going to pay me for a full week, which they legally have to do anyway).

Straight away i knew exactly what needed to be done. I agreed to her proposal, and left the conference room to go back to my checkout and continue mindlessly scanning overpriced products...or so the bitch thought..

Instead i grabbed my coat and bag from the locker room and bombed in through the store and out the front doors, feelin' like a RIGHT rebel...i even said goodbye to the old crippled security guard as i left.

WHAT A BADASS MOFO(/twat)!!


lol.
(BatCountry organised, attended, and was thrown out on, Thu 17 Aug 2006, 19:52, Reply)