Profile for X:
none
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
- a member for 21 years, 9 months and 11 days
- has posted 43 messages on the main board
- has posted 0 messages on the talk board
- has posted 0 messages on the links board
- has posted 2 stories and 0 replies on question of the week
- They liked 0 pictures, 0 links, 0 talk posts, and 2 qotw answers.
- Ignore this user
- Add this user as a friend
- send me a message
none
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Job Interviews
You can stick your job...
So I was a young second year student, seeking an industrial placement for my third year. I'd been invited to an interview at Lloyds TSB and decided to along as I had little success with all my other interviews. On arrival at their dumpy office in Wythenshawe, south Manchester, I noticed that this place was the dump of all dumps. A moleste steaming monument to dumpiness. I got a tour of the endless rows of cubicles filled with computers, alcoholics and grey spirits before being invited into 'the interview room' with the Manager and his colleague. This room was about 2 metres by 1 metre and now contained a desk, a computer, 3 chairs and the three of us. There was no air condioning and the manager was a very fat man. He was already slightly sweaty after nervously having to accept that he had completely forgotten I was coming for the interview that day. Needless to say, after 45 minutes of what seemed like days, trying to answer questions with an eager and professional attitude, the smell would have been unbearable. It would have been unbearable, if it had not been for the fact that I was so distracted by the manager's posture and composition - facing me, with legs wide apart, shirt untucked, dripping armpits, and one big boxer-wrapped bollock hanging out from where he had split his trousers.
I was offered the job and immediately concluded that the industrial placement wasn't for me and so opted out of the programme. It has also set me against banks... and work, in general. I have been eagerly seeking sustainable unemployment ever since.
(Tue 25th Jan 2005, 21:34, More)
You can stick your job...
So I was a young second year student, seeking an industrial placement for my third year. I'd been invited to an interview at Lloyds TSB and decided to along as I had little success with all my other interviews. On arrival at their dumpy office in Wythenshawe, south Manchester, I noticed that this place was the dump of all dumps. A moleste steaming monument to dumpiness. I got a tour of the endless rows of cubicles filled with computers, alcoholics and grey spirits before being invited into 'the interview room' with the Manager and his colleague. This room was about 2 metres by 1 metre and now contained a desk, a computer, 3 chairs and the three of us. There was no air condioning and the manager was a very fat man. He was already slightly sweaty after nervously having to accept that he had completely forgotten I was coming for the interview that day. Needless to say, after 45 minutes of what seemed like days, trying to answer questions with an eager and professional attitude, the smell would have been unbearable. It would have been unbearable, if it had not been for the fact that I was so distracted by the manager's posture and composition - facing me, with legs wide apart, shirt untucked, dripping armpits, and one big boxer-wrapped bollock hanging out from where he had split his trousers.
I was offered the job and immediately concluded that the industrial placement wasn't for me and so opted out of the programme. It has also set me against banks... and work, in general. I have been eagerly seeking sustainable unemployment ever since.
(Tue 25th Jan 2005, 21:34, More)
» Old People Talk Bollocks
You got it your way at BK
Last summer I went to visit my nan and my aunt in Ross-on-Wye. For Lunch they thought it would be nice to take me to Burger King (because that's where young people go). My aunt went to find a table while me and nan went up to order. "I'd like a beefburger please", said my nan - a 5ft tall petite old northern lass with a constantly apprehensive expression. The guy behind the counter tapped into his till and leant down into his microphone to call for a hamburger. It was at this point that my nan, convinced he'd got her order wrong, almost climbed over the counter and burst out "oh no, i'd really rather have beef!"
(Thu 11th Mar 2004, 20:58, More)
You got it your way at BK
Last summer I went to visit my nan and my aunt in Ross-on-Wye. For Lunch they thought it would be nice to take me to Burger King (because that's where young people go). My aunt went to find a table while me and nan went up to order. "I'd like a beefburger please", said my nan - a 5ft tall petite old northern lass with a constantly apprehensive expression. The guy behind the counter tapped into his till and leant down into his microphone to call for a hamburger. It was at this point that my nan, convinced he'd got her order wrong, almost climbed over the counter and burst out "oh no, i'd really rather have beef!"
(Thu 11th Mar 2004, 20:58, More)