» Things you've done when you've had no money.

Beer and pizza
Another time I was skint as a student my mate suggested we went for a job interview with Compuserve (Yes, I'm that old) as they gave out free beer and pizza as they tried to drum up enough poor students to get them to work in the call centre. After our beer and pizza we would have a chat with the staff and be given an "Internet quiz" to see if we knew enough about the internet. The questions were quite stupid such as "What is a newsgroup? Please give an example." to which we game examples such as alt.sex.animals and alt.religeon.satanism. Oddly enough we didn't get the job but we did try again a few months later for more beer and pizza. And no, they didn't check to see if we'd been last time.
(Mon 11th Oct 2004, 11:14, More)

» Things you've done when you've had no money.

Beer
When I was a student, at the end of the term my mate and me would delve down the back of the sofa until we had enough loose change to afford a half of bitter. We would make the bitter last all evening and make an evening meal out of the free peanuts they served.

Bad enough but worse when you realise that my mate's dad is a peer of the realm....
(Mon 11th Oct 2004, 10:55, More)

» My Worst Vomit

"Employee of the month"
My first ever full time job was working for a cheesy (and now closed) mobile phone retail company. In order to get the team (staff) motivated (together and pissed) they had a monthly "Employee of the Month" award ceremony. Now, to get people to go they provided beer and nibbles... lots of beer and a few nibbles.

I remember one night when, after the ceremony and about 8 beers, we all descided to go on to the pub and things got a bit blurry after then. More beers and a curry came into the evening but they remain to this day a faint blur until about 12am when I got home when the sudden sobering up moment had occured.

It happened all so suddently; one moment I was trying to get into bed, the next, more of my vomit was in the bed than I was. I remember thinking that this was a bad state of affairs and that I couldn't possibly sleep in a chunder filled bed. Instantly sober.

I remember stripping off the bed, washing the covers in the shower (to get the bits of korma off the sheets) and popping them into the washing machine (I was living with my parents at the time and I didn't want to face the sympathy of being found to have yacked all over my bed).

I awoke next morning, feeling a bit worse for wear and in search of coffee only to find my mum in the kitching smiling at me. She asked me if I'd had a good night and, just as I thought I'd got away with it, asked me if I'd been sick. I admitted that I had and asked how she knew. She pointed to the open washing machine door the the back legs of the cat sticking out.

No, I should point out that the cat was a HUGE beast; 16lbs of Ginger brawler who would eat anything and it was he who had given the game away. As soon as the waching machine door had been opened he had gone over and stuck his head inside. The loud purring and sounds of munching as he ate the lumps of curried, regurgitated and washed lamb out of the washing machine had give the game away.

Betrayed by your own cat... bummer.
(Tue 24th Aug 2004, 11:59, More)