Why should you be fired from your job?
I spent three years "working" in the Ministry of Agriculture carefully crafting projectiles out of folded paper and drawing pins that I would then fire at colleagues with an elastic band. On discovering I'd been conducting all-out warfare when I should really have been in a field counting cows, I was asked to "reconsider my career options" outside the service.
Why, then, should you be fired from your job?
( , Thu 9 Aug 2007, 13:04)
I spent three years "working" in the Ministry of Agriculture carefully crafting projectiles out of folded paper and drawing pins that I would then fire at colleagues with an elastic band. On discovering I'd been conducting all-out warfare when I should really have been in a field counting cows, I was asked to "reconsider my career options" outside the service.
Why, then, should you be fired from your job?
( , Thu 9 Aug 2007, 13:04)
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Sports Shop
I used to work for a well known "sports" shop (i.e. tailor for the chav classes) owned by a twat who also owns a few sports teams in Wigan.
As I was a part time worker whilst at uni I put in much less than the expected 100%. Highlights include:
Coming in every weekend still E'd out of my tits
Getting drunk at lunchtime with my semi jayky supervisor and her friends
Selling my area manager (he didn't know it was me getting him his drugs) E's & speed through ubove supervisor who was shagging him
refusing to push the storecards on moral grounds (not wanting to go to hull for encouraging people who cant get credit elsewere a glorified credit card with 27% intrest)
making indecent suggestions to the 17 year old Saturday girls
getting stoned at breaktime with a former armed robber and heroin addict who would descibe how to perform random criminal acts (from cooking up crack to stealing slot machines from motorway service stations)
Sleeping most Sundays in the stockroom (no managers most Sundays)
My favourate moment was locking a cocky new start in the dark upstairs storeroom and forgetting about him. the only way up to the room was a rickety old lift, when you pulled open the lift door on any floor the lift stalled and would not move until you shut it. We meant to lock him up for 10 mins or so but the shop got busy and we forgot... untill 5pm when we knocked off. Fortunately my mate Big Mick had put his notice in so he took the rap.
I wish I sill worked there.
( , Fri 10 Aug 2007, 20:34, Reply)
I used to work for a well known "sports" shop (i.e. tailor for the chav classes) owned by a twat who also owns a few sports teams in Wigan.
As I was a part time worker whilst at uni I put in much less than the expected 100%. Highlights include:
Coming in every weekend still E'd out of my tits
Getting drunk at lunchtime with my semi jayky supervisor and her friends
Selling my area manager (he didn't know it was me getting him his drugs) E's & speed through ubove supervisor who was shagging him
refusing to push the storecards on moral grounds (not wanting to go to hull for encouraging people who cant get credit elsewere a glorified credit card with 27% intrest)
making indecent suggestions to the 17 year old Saturday girls
getting stoned at breaktime with a former armed robber and heroin addict who would descibe how to perform random criminal acts (from cooking up crack to stealing slot machines from motorway service stations)
Sleeping most Sundays in the stockroom (no managers most Sundays)
My favourate moment was locking a cocky new start in the dark upstairs storeroom and forgetting about him. the only way up to the room was a rickety old lift, when you pulled open the lift door on any floor the lift stalled and would not move until you shut it. We meant to lock him up for 10 mins or so but the shop got busy and we forgot... untill 5pm when we knocked off. Fortunately my mate Big Mick had put his notice in so he took the rap.
I wish I sill worked there.
( , Fri 10 Aug 2007, 20:34, Reply)
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