» The Dirty Secrets of Your Trade

I murdered a director
I used to work for a company that was run by academics. Marketing types would ring speculatively and, being academics, they hated talking to real people let alone sales people and would often hang up, not answer or just leave them on hold while they went off to do more interesting things. This often left me, acting as the receptionist, getting an earful from some very annoyed phone monkeys.

Eventually the directors and I came to an agreement where we would give marketing companies the name of a fake marketing manager, who would be "out" a lot. And when one of the academics was bored, or the company seemed useful, they would speak to them.

As the head academic was particularly keen on X-men, we named the marketing manager Dr. Jean Grey, but pronounced it John.

It all started very well

PM (Phone Monkey): Can I speak to your marketing director?
Me: So sorry, he's out on the road
PM: Can I have his number?
Me: He probably won't be able to pick up, he's in China, you can send some literature if you like, address it to Dr. Jean Grey.
PM: Okay, I'll call again after I've sent some information

All very nice, no-one got hurt, and everybody was more productive.....

Until we met the jack russells of the sales and marketing world. They started ringing, and I gave them the above speil.

After a week or two, they rang again

PM: Hi, can I speak to Jean Grey?
Me: It's Dr. John Grey and I'm sorry, he's "out" on the road.
PM: Did he receive the material we sent?
Me: Yes, I'm sure he did
PM: Do you know if he read it?
Me: No idea, I'll ask him to return your call when he comes in.
PM: Great, thanks

*sniggers from office*

And again:
PM: Hi I called last week to speak to Jean Grey
Me: That's Dr. John Grey
PM: Okay, sorry, has he read the material?
Me: Oh yes, he said he was very interested and he was going to get back to you. Did he call?
PM: No I have no record of that
ME: Well not to worry, I'm sure he will soon, he's in India at the moment.
PM: Thanks

*sniggers from office*

Another week passes:
PM: Hi, could I speak to Jean Grey?
Me: It's Dr. John Grey, I'm sorry, he's not here at the moment
PM (getting irritated): Do you hold his diary? I've been trying to speak to him for weeks
Me: I'm sorry, Dr. Grey *sniggers* is a very busy man, I'm sure he will get back to you when he's available
PM: Well, make sure he does...

I had a bit of a "handbags at dawn" moment there, and everyone thought it was hilarious, but I knew we weren't going to be able to do this all the time, afterall, Dr. Jean was supposed to be saving everyone time, and phone monkey was being a bit of a pest.

So we decided to hurt him (Dr. Jean that is, not the phone monkey)

The beginning of the end:
PM: I would like to speak to Jean Grey please
Me: It's Dr. John Grey, and I'm sorry, he's not available
PM: Look, I've been ringing for weeks, I know what my company is offering is not hugely important, but it could be highly beneficial, if I could just speak to him once, I'm sure arrangements could be made very quickly.
Me: I appreciate that sir *sniggers* but unfortuntely Dr. Grey has been involved in an accident and I'm not sure when he'll be returning to work.
PM: Sorry to hear that, I'll ring next week
Me: You do that, thanks!

I'm sure you can see where this is going can't you? We had to kill Dr. Jean Grey, it was a hard decision because he was such a valued member of the team, but he had finally become a bit of a millstone, he had to go.

Next week:
PM: Hi, can I speak to Jean Grey please?
Me: *sniffling* it's Dr. John Grey, and I'm sorry, but no, he's unavailable.
PM: He's always unavailable, is there someone else I can speak to?
Me: There's no need to speak to me like that sir *sniffle*, Dr. Grey was the only person you could speak to
PM: Was?
Me: Yes, he died yesterday, he stubbed his toe at the Australian embassy and contracted gangrene, it spread to his abdomen, they tried to amputate, but he just didn't make it.

(Think about amputating an abdomen - honestly! Australian embassy? Don't ask, I don't know why)

PM: I'm so sorry.....*BIG Pause*...have you found a replacement?
Me: That's very insenstive sir, I suggest you don't call again

*SLAMS Phone down*

Everyone laughed like horses, we toasted Dr. Jean Grey at the pub later.


ADDITIONAL
The whole company agreed that Dr. Grey had to be killed, and that I was the person to do it. Although there was no mess to clean up, no body to hide and no snooping by the cops, this dirty secret was particularly guilt-free and legal (and nonsensical).

But the emotional price was high, not only did I "give birth" to my very own fictitious marketing director, I then killed him with the Australian embassy. I still miss Dr. Grey, sometime I feel a deep ache of longing, he'll be forever in my heart

Most of this story is true.
(Thu 27th Sep 2007, 12:21, More)

» Pet Stories

Cats are rubbish....
....so here's a good dog story.

I woke up one morning to the sound of my brother howling with laughter. I went downstairs to find him in the kitchen with tears running down his face, hyperventilating and pointing, pathetically, out of the window.

I looked out, couldn't see anything, so I went outside, brother followed.

My neighbours then came through her garden gate and said:

"I've got something that belongs to you"

And from round her legs, my little dog Patchie follows with a big shit-eating grin on his face that says:

"Guess where I've been?"

My brother, in his infinite wisdom, had tied Patchie's favourite toy to the washing line with an old lead.

Patchie decided to try and get his toy back by pulling at it.

The washing line wouldn't give, and the old lead wouldn't give, this resulted in a rather spectacular catapault effect, twanging the dog clear over a 6 foot fence.

Which is what my brother was laughing at.

I can only imagine what my neighbour thought when she saw a small ball of white fur rocketing across her garden then getting up and peeing on her herb garden.

Lil' Patch isn't around anymore, but he really was the funniest dog ever, and that story still has my brother wetting his pants every time you remind him of it.

There may be more Patch stories later if I can write them in such a way as to do him justice.
(Fri 8th Jun 2007, 11:56, More)

» Voyeurism

Camels
Tunisia, the worse place in the world for a holiday. You can't go anywhere without being constantly pestered, groped and stared at. It's a bloody nightmare.

Anyway, story.....

Went to Tunisia with then-boyfriend. It was dreadful, it got to half way through the first week when we realised it was almost impossible to leave the hotel without all the hassle. (I'm not wet or anything, it was just that bad) so we spent a goodly amount of time in our room, shagging to relieve the boredem, as you do.

All the rest of our time was spent in the hotel bar. For those that don't know, Muslims aren't supposed to drink, so alcohol is only reeally licenced in registered tourist places, like hotel bars, as a consequence the bar was usually full of Tunisian men.

Anyway, one night a local man came over to us and offered then-boyfriend 100 camels for me. We were a fairly equitable couple and he just told the man I wasn't his possession and no.

We smiled at the thought of what he would do with 100 camels in our Victorian terrace back home and left it at that.

Later on we went to speak to a couple from Barnsley, who were having just as dreadful a time as we were.

The girl of the couple was well presented, nice make-up, you know, all the usual homogenous attractive stuff for people lacking in imagination, you know the sort I mean? Anyway we got round to talking about the locals in the bar.

She pointed to an elderly gentleman and proclaimed proudly "He offered my fella 17 camels for me"

My ex then said "Someone offered me 100 for her" (pointing at me)

Her face dropped, she obviously couldn't understand why anyone would offer more camels for a big girl who's kind of scruffy and lacking in style over "lovely" her.

We all sat around awkwardly until the passing waiter said, with a smile:
"It's probably because they all saw her copulating on the balcony this morning!"

As you can imagine, the silence was deafening.
(Fri 12th Oct 2007, 13:27, More)

» Well, that taught 'em

Yeah......
I don't do confrontation, so when someone needs teaching a lesson, I do mong face behind their backs.

Sometimes I do swear finger whilst "pushing" my glasses on

The worse one is that if I've cooked for them, I give them the plate with the disorderly food, instead of the neatly arranged one.

I make a dreadful enemy, don't cross me!
(Fri 27th Apr 2007, 14:14, More)

» Racist grandparents

The Opposite of Racist
This is a bit of an odd question for me because of my grandparents.

My granddad was a prisoner of the Nazi's during the war, brought from the former Yugoslavia as slave labour and held in a camp. He managed to escape, walked across Europe and, once in Britain, joined the RAF to fight back. A hero of a man I never actually met.

My grandma was a bright British girl, who met my granddad, fell in love and married. Her entire family disowned her for marrying a "foreigner".

After the war, my granddad worked in a tyre re-moulding factory to support his family, and having been repeatedly passed over for promotion due to his "foreign" sounding name and Mediterranean good looks, started his own factory. He designed a new way of re-moulding tyres, which were so efficient that he put the his former employer out of business.

I'm telling this story, not because I want to demonstrate that idle racism is bad or ignorant, you're a twat if you don't think that anyway, or because, "Oh woe is me - my family was the victim of racism" but because he died when my dad was 12, I never got to meet him, but he still inspires me everyday.

And there's racism in the story fitting QOTW neatly.
(Tue 1st Nov 2011, 21:19, More)