How to make the worst possible first impression
During the first day on a previous job I arrived at the office early, suited and booted, met up with my new boss – a likeable fella named Nick who did my interview – and he offered to take me out for coffee over to the wanky, poncy-arsed coffee shop round the corner. He wanted to talk to me about my new sales role in a relaxed, laid-back atmosphere. Never being one to turn down a free anything and desperate to make the right impression, I went along. We sat in the window seat, I ordered the most expensive coffee on the menu and we started chatting about selling shit to shits; the usual guff for a sales monkey like myself.

The coffees came. Time ticked on. We ordered another coffee. We started to relax and talk about our out of office lives. It was pretty obvious Nick wanted to get to know me better as a person, which was nice. The waitress came over with our second coffees and after she’d placed them on the table he leaned into me and said conspirationally: “I’d give her one!” I nodded in agreement. Fuck me, this beat doing some work for a living.

We sipped at our fresh drinks, we talked about footie, holidays, nice places to go out on the beer; just the usual stuff. I was gazing out the big coffee shop window, watching the traffic go by. Nick was sat with his back to the window facing into the shop. What with it being London (down in Borough near London Bridge), it was fucking busy on the roads. It was also a really hot day. As if from nowhere a gorgeous Italian-looking girl in a convertible VW beetle stopped just outside the coffee shop window. She had on such an amazingly low cut top that revealed such a perfectly pert set of knockers that she actually took my breath away. She flicked her long ebony locks and stroked her neck, did a little stretch.

“My God,” I said, “There’s a girl sat in a car just outside waiting at the lights who is absolutely amazingly stunning... I think I’d like to marry her...”

Nick, my boss but also my new best mate, went to turn to have a surreptitious perv. But in the time it took him to put his coffee down and twist his body the lights had changed and the traffic had moved on a little. My Italian beauty had moved up the queue a few cars. Nick stared for a moment. I could hear something, some statement catch in his throat. Then he turned quickly back round, put his head down, and drank his coffee in silence for a few moments. I did the same. Shit!

In the five or six seconds it had taken Nick to turn to have a butchers, another car had taken the place of my new girlfriend’s, parked up just outside the window moving further up the queue of traffic. It was another convertible. And there was a girl in this motor too. She was in the passenger seat, playing with her long blonde hair. She was wearing a nice flowery summer dress.

Only this girl was probably about six years old.

(It’s fucking hard work attempting to explain to your new boss of all of an hour that you’re not, in point of fact, a dirty paedophile)...
( SpankyHanky, Thu 18 Jun 2009, 17:17, 5 replies)

*click*
Can we just give you your own seperate QOTW area already my boy? You seem to be dominating the rest of us ruffians!
(FoxyBadger (try saying it backwards), Thu 18 Jun 2009, 17:23, closed)

Coffee Shop?
Coffee Slop, more like - it's all over my keyboard now matey, cheers!

*click*, by the way
( TheMagicDwarf is back like ballroom dancing, Thu 18 Jun 2009, 17:41, closed)

Heeheeheehee
thats a classic! clicky!
(Grrrrr Tigers, Fri 19 Jun 2009, 9:08, closed)

You utter bastard!
Just had me pissing tea out of my mouth!
(stonethecrows is badder than a bad thing on, Fri 19 Jun 2009, 9:36, closed)

Should've rolled with it
"What? I've got a thing for blondes. She's probably older than she looks..."

*click*
( chart cat has an itch, Mon 22 Jun 2009, 6:40, closed)