b3ta.com user Gherkinlasagna
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» Annoying Partners

Not suitable for those with diabetes
The problem with my partner is that he's just a bit too perfect for me. If we ever have a disagreement (which is admittedly rare) it's very difficult to stay annoyed at him. All he has to do is just dial up the old Northern Irish accent and all the wind is taken out of me. Its infuriating but if that's the worst I have to deal with then it's a pretty sweet life.

I'll give you the example of what was probably the worst argument we've ever had-

Me- "Stop leaving used tea bags in the sink! It's ickey!"

BF- "Ah sure, is that an offer for you to make the tea then?" *maximum accent*

Me- "Arrgh!"

Argument ends. He commences the 'Ha ha you love me' victory dance.

He also makes up vicious lies about me. Lies like I steal all the covers at night. Not true! I have slept in that bed every night and not once do I recall taking covers. Yes, my sleeping style has been described as that of a demented starfish but that's beside the point. I have also been accused that my special 'Ancient Chinese' massage techniques (complete with Kung Fu-style chops to the neck and back) are not a sacred art taught to me by an even more sacred Guru, but rather a cheap excuse to torment the Hell out of him when I think he's been on the computer too long. All lies I tell you!

Hands down though his most annoying habit right now is living in another city. Work commitments mean we have to be apart for a little while. It sucks but the reunions are regular and I can't wait to be sharing a postcode again. I don't tell him this of course. I just tell him how much I'm enjoying having a clean sink.
(Fri 5th Aug 2011, 13:37, More)

» Vandalism

Practical and informative!
Many of us know the joys of the

"Festival Portaloo' !!!!! (exclamation marks for dramatic effect)

These are necessary evils in otherwise awesome events. This particular tale comes from Download 2010's offering. You can spend a whole weekend stalking out the lesser used loos which border on 'humane'. In my preferred quiet patch I found this little gem scrawled on the inside of the door. It was a tally chart with three options....







Ho ho ho, funny little moment and I carry on my drinking and merry making. Having completely forgotten about this I'm delighted to find the same loo again but someone had added one sad, lonely, alternate option bellow


(Sat 9th Oct 2010, 0:08, More)

» Flirting

Not a natural flirter
I have always been one of those 'one of the lads' kind of girls. No idea how to flutter eyelashes or pout provocatively. When I like someone I tend to just suggest they should ask me out as the odds of a positive response are good.

Once at a weekend event for Uni I happened to meet someone rather lovely looking but had no intention of pursuing. We got along well and spent the whole day talking some top quality toot. I figured I'd made a great friend. On the second day of the event he shows up dressed nicely with his hair done.

Train of thought goes thus -

He looks nice
I should tell him this
Don't want to sound like I'm coming on to him
What is a good compromise?

I decide, in my infinite wisdom (in front of friends) to say;

"You're looking very sharp today."

You're looking sharp? I felt like following it up with "Hey lets find some sexy dames and hit a gin bar"

We'll be celebrating our one year anniversary soon.
(Sun 21st Feb 2010, 14:58, More)

» Dodgy work ethics

I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier
I have worked in insurance for almost three years. Started part time to pay my way through my degree and went full time to save for my Masters, and a couple of weeks ago walked out on the job.

The company I worked for is one of the biggest insurers in the UK. As far as call centre work it's one of the better ones but the phrase 'Call centres are where the soul goes to die' still applies.

Now the company I worked for decided it wanted lots more car insurance customers so put out a huge marketing campaign with big discounts. Previously our clients had mainly been middle-aged, full no claims careful sorts. Now we had masses of freshly passed teenagers and serial car crashers.
'Oh Noes!' The big wigs go. Everyone is claiming on their cheap policies and we are losing money. Their solution? Something called a 'targeted renewal'. It basically means that the IT team go into certain policies and change the discount code. This four digit number changes the rating on the policy and dials it way up so as soon as the renewal gets generated the price is massive. Customer says 'Eff off I'm not paying that.' and the company gets rid of a customer it doesn't want.

This I hated with a passion because whenever you make a change on a policy it generates the standard 'Thank you for your recent request to change your policy...' letter. The IT team inevitably forgot to stop all the letters so I would have lovely people calling up asking why their policy has changed when they hadn't done anything. A very difficult thing to explain when you refuse to lie.

Another side effect was if you change a policy very close to the end of the year it stops the automatic renewal. So say you have 4 policies with us. They all renew automatically and have done for the ten or so years you have been with us. You are happy with this arrangement and the service you receive. We'll call this person Mr A who I had the pleasure of speaking to. One of his cars had the dreaded 'targeted renewal'. He was lucky in that it only went up to £400 (and I have seen much higher). His automatic renewal gets stopped and a letter is sent saying he must contact us. His problem? He is in India for 3 months while this is happening. Mr A returns from India to find his car insurance has lapsed. It's too long to accept the £400 quote so new quote it is. I feel for the guy and hunt for every discount I can give him. The price the computer gives me? Over £2000 now (once again, not that unusual).
Have you ever tried to argue with someone when you completely agree with them? It's not easy. I went to every manager I could and called anyone I could think of to try get this £400 price. Got told no as he had fair warning with the letter (which he had no chance of receiving in time). My argument of 'He's auto renewed for years and it's our fault it didn't go through.' was largely ignored.

I just wanted to scream at the guy to take his cars and leave this company. I have seen the opposite of this where people blatantly ignore their renewals or forget to tell us about their 3 speeding tickets. I have no problems being firm with someone when they are in the wrong. I struggle when an innocent person gets taken advantage of over a bullshit system error which is the companies fault.

I'm not cut out for insurance but trust me when I say there are call centre workers who are desperate to help you. I used to be one of them but am thankful every day I made it out of there, finished my degree and am now starting my Masters.

(Tue 12th Jul 2011, 18:09, More)

» Dodgy work ethics

Crappy job meets surly teenager
My first job was in a little coffee house in the remote English village I lived at the time (think 'League of Gentlemen' but with prettier flowers). The problem with being a teenager in need of cash was there was only two options in the village. Either the co-op, who would only hire 18+ so they could sell booze (inevitably to their underage classmates) or this coffee house. As I was only 17 it was lattes and toasted tea cakes for me.

Although I feel I could answer this qotw on the uniforms alone (candy pink and white striped shirt and apron complete with frilly detail) it was more the ethics of the boss which annoyed me. He was no devil, he didn't poison anyone (to my knowledge) and there were no spectacular thefts. The problem with him was he knew us tween waitresses had nowhere else to go. We were paid off the books and recieved a whopping £2.10 an hour, cash in hand, for our troubles. The only other staff (apart from the cook who was quite pleasant) were all in their 60's topping up their pensions.

Aside from the normal chronic understaffing and rubbish pay his personal slights against me were

-After cutting my thumb pretty spectacularly open on a rusty nail in the outdoor toilets I was refused the chance to nip across the road to the doctors surgery to get it taped up (and perhaps a quick tetanus shot). After reasoning that customers may be suspicious of their pink cappuccinos I was begrudgingly offered a plaster and told to wash the dishes 'one-handed' in the back as the wound was 'unsightly'.

-It seems I'd made an enemy as pot washing became a more regular duty for me (as well as still serving front of house). After a few days I woke to find I had developed zombie hands. Whatever soviet industrial detergent they had provided me was stripping the top layers of skin off. It was like I'd covered my hands in PVA glue and it was slowly peeling off. It wasn't painful, just really icky. Works response? "You can't prove it was our stuff that caused it."

-I was serving a table with two very lovely women one day. One woman had very severe learning difficulties but they seemed pleasant enough. While reaching over to serve a pot of tea this woman took a liking to my bracelet, reached out and snatched my wrist towards her. This sent a near scalding pot of tea over my arm. I was actually surprised by my employers response of soaking my arm in cold water and giving me an hour for the pain to subside (I was thankfully not injured, just sore). I was less pleased to find I had been docked that hours pay.

Now I am not afraid of hard work. I tried damn hard at that job and as a timid teenager took a lot of crap for it. I just wanted fair pay and to feel my efforts were appreciated. I then learned that the UK were bringing in minimum wage for 16-17 year-olds *applause and woots*. When did this come in I hear you shout? October 1st, 2004.....my 18th birthday. Now I've never really been one for revenge when quitting a job. I think the majority of 'hilarious' leaving work pranks only hurt your colleagues. My revenge was to print out a list of what the tweens were entitled to, the pay levels, hourly limits, phone numbers for support and the detail that the cash in hand method was because the boss didn't want all that pesky 'tax' bother. Every waitress knew what they should be paid and how to enforce it.

The icing on the cake for me was calling in the morning of my last shift and having roughly the following conversation;

'Hi I'm afraid I can't make it in today.'

'Well why not? Your shift starts in ten minutes! Blah blah useless kids blah blah not worth trouble blah blah I hate puppies and smiles.'

'Ermm.....I'm in Brighton. Take care!'

What I got up to in Brighton was a weekend with my favorite band at the time (Susperia if you're interested and yes, I have grown out of that very angry kind of music) and getting quite friendly with the bassist (minds out the gutter please, no naughtiness happened).

No apologies for lack of funnies. I think this was my best attempt at class and dignity my New Rock-clad younger self could muster.
(Sun 10th Jul 2011, 0:29, More)
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