Not My Best Day.....

I was going to write about my Gran today because it is her birthday. I rang her up to wish her many happy returns and asked what she was doing today. her reply was this: "Well, I'm on the toilet at the minute..."

Thanks for that mental image gran. you are the best!

however - today has taken a turn for the worst and so you will know that conversation happened.

Firstly, this post is a little more sweary than usual.

I don’t mind a bit of bad language, but try not to let it rule my life (or blog).

I apologise to anyone who may not like the language used in this post but hope that by reading it you will understand why I am so angry.

If you don’t like swear words. Don’t read this post.

Thankyou.

One of the best parts of working for yourself (apart from having the keys to the shop and therefore having 24 hour access to the sweets in the shop) is knowing you have done a good job and getting recognised for it.

It does happen from time to time where somebody shows their appreciation for your hard work and dedication to ensuring everyone has a nice holiday, whether it’s for one night passing through or a two week break away from the hustle and bustle of the world with a simple thank you. It really is nice to be nice and doesn’t take much.

It was though, Issac Newton who said everything has an equal and opposite reaction.

This means that for every nice and friendly person who passes through my gates, there is one … what’s the word…. ARSEHOLE.. yes that’s the word, one arsehole who ruins it for everyone else.

The week has only just begun and the king of Arseholes has arrived today.

This particular shithouse has been before.

As he arrived I recognised his face, but couldn’t remember why.

It soon dawned on me that it was because he winds me up like nobody else.

He is so cock sure and arrogant about ..well everything… he refuses to listen to reason. Even when he scrapes his car against a stone wall and burns his clutch out.

I won’t bore you with the details, but it comes down to the fact that I was trying to do HIM a favour and save him the bother of moving his caravan around the place. I was willing to work around HIM. That wasn’t good enough it seems.

He wanted to make an issue of it.

He wanted to let everyone within earshot know that something wasn’t right.

Regardless that it was him at fault and I was more than able to put it right – this was his chance to look like a real man.

And so I snapped.

Proper snapped.

Shouting and a little bit of swearing snapped.

It was wrong of me to lose my temper the way I did, but like Popeye said “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more!” and I put this pillock well and truly in his place.

I started by being nice – I really did, but very quickly it became apparent that this guy wanted to show his authority because I am about thirty years his junior and that means that he knows best.

Regardless of the fact that I do what I do 365 days a year and know what I’m doing, this chump has always had it in for me and is a know-all.

Not today.

Today the worm turned and showed his teeth.

As my blood began to boil I turned around, looked him straight in the eye and ensure without doubt that he would not be allowed to talk down to me like that again.

I would have thrown him the campsite off but although he is a massive dick, his money is worth having… just.

I feel wrong for having made a scene but there are times when you can’t let bullies win.

That is what he is. A bully. I hate bullies.

More than I hate Dave… and I REALLY HATE DAVE.

This bumhole is now on the black list and I have no doubt he will try and wind me up before the end of the week, but the staff know that any bad move on his part and he is off. He can have his money back and will be told never to return.

There are limits and this is it.

I’m the boss around here. I have a badge and everything.

Bullies must never be allowed to win. They must be told to shut up and behave.

No threats, no second warnings.

If you fuck up – you fuck off.

That’s my new moto. It’s a bit sweary but it’s catchy.

Since writing this post I have had a cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit (custard creams don’t cut the mustard in these situations) and now I have written down my rage I feel a lot calmer.

Thanks for reading and I hope you don’t have to deal a nob head like this in your day to day life.

Stay alert - Stay Grumpy.

Mrs Utterbitch

This week has been half term and the campsite has seen many people come and go for a weeks camping.

The majority of these people have been quiet pleasant and nice and glad to have a break away from the stresses and trials of modern life.

Unfortunately there is always one exception to the rule.

Enter Mrs Utterbitch:

Mrs Utterbitch is a professional complainer. If something is wrong she will complain about it. Even when something isn’t wrong, she will find a reason to a have a moan.

Things do go wrong from time to time and it is part of my job to put things right and sort stuff out.

However, Mrs Utterbitch is as her name suggests an utter bitch.

Nominative determinism it’s called.

Firstly, the office is open most of the day for campers to buy milk and bread and biscuits and ask for directions to local attractions and the like. 5:30pm the shop shuts but I still make myself available for emergencies (see notice on shop door for instructions)

7:30pm the door bells rings. Mrs Utterbitch is standing at the door, arms crossed. 

“THE INTERNET IS NOT WORKING!!!” she screams at me. I don’t know how she managed to actually shriek the three exclamation marks, but she did.

“Oh.” Said I. “Let’s see if can’t sort that out for you.” I can be quiet polite when I have to be (honest).

Mrs U brought her 10 year old laptop to the shop, while I waited, and I promptly got her online to the FREE WIFI I supply FREE OF CHARGE.

“There you go.” I cheerily said. “All sorted. I think you are struggling to get the signal because you have one of those covers over your caravan window.” I explained. “They are lined with aluminium, which is stopping the signal getting through.”

“THAT IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH!!!” She shouted adding a hurumph for good measure.

 “Well, you can always use the barn if you need to get access to the net.” I offered.

“I AM NOT GOING TO SIT IN A BARN TO USE THE INTERNET!!!” yelled Mrs Utterbitch.

I sighed inwardly (which is probably why I have hiccups) “It’s not actually a barn. It’s a communal room we have recently built for campers to enjoy. It heated and has comfy seating and tables…” but I was cut of mid-sentence with this astonishing retort.

“I AM NOT THE SORT OF PERSON WHO SITS IN A BARN!!!”

Wow.

“It’s NOT a barn it’s…” but before I could finish:

“IT’S FINE!!! I JUST WON’T BOTHER!!!” and off she stormed.

If that wasn’t bad enough, she came the next morning. Stamping her feet toward the shop as I was sorting the morning papers. Half expecting some form of apology – I soon realised I could not be further from the truth.

“THE HAND DRYER IN THE LADIES IS NOT WORKING!!!” Howled the she devil.

“Hmm….” I mused, not wanting to suffer a conversation with her. “I’ll have a look and sort it out. Thanks for letting me know.”

I promptly ventured into the ladies washroom (which is always left a fucking disgrace by the way) and put my hand under the hand dryer to test to see if it worked.

Guess what…

Yup! It was working. The woman was outwitted by a hand dryer.

That really should have been the end of the matter – but I should have known better.

This very evening at 7:30pm just as I was enjoying my first curry of the year, the door bell rang.

There she was… again. The same frown. The same folded arms of defiance.

With my mouth still chewing a bit of Naan bread and Chicken Tikka Jalfrezi I asked how I could help.

“THE LIGHTS ARE NOT WORKING IN THE LADIES!!!”

“Stupid question, I know, but did you try the light switch?” I asked.

No reply came and she stormed off back to her van.

Guess what happened when I tried the light switch.

Yup. The lights came on.

Of course they did.

Mrs Utterbitch is bloody idiot.

Thankfully she leaves tomorrow and I have already taken her camping fees.

Some people do not deserve decent customer service.

But as I say, she is the one exception to the rule and the rest of the people on site have been very well behaved and capable of using light switches, hand dryers and the internet.

In other news I have made a new friend. He is called Tony One Shoulder, because he only has one shoulder. He gets lost a lot and seems to know a lot about men who live in castles and invented the spinning wheel.

I could tell you all the things I have learnt from him like, what button does what on his new remote control, or what the “man with the face from TV’s Time team” said on the news 6 months ago about the road in Gloustershire that ISN’T a Roman road…. But I’ll save those for another day.

998: A Guide To Christmas Shopping

I am sorry to be bearer of bad news but …

"Oh Christ, He's doing one of THESE again..."

Christmas is coming.

Whether you like it or not all the signs are there.

All of the adverts on TV have at least one GCI multi coloured star zipping around the screen and tinsel and people having fun and smiling like idiots wearing paper hats and £20 off something that still costs far too much and you have no intention of buying EVER.

Merry Christmas - Bitches!

You probably know someone who insists on telling everyone that they have already put up all their decorations, as if it’s some sort of race and that makes them a better person than you even though it just makes them more likely to become a serial killer or cat eater.

Whatever - it’s on its way.

But try as you might at some point in the next few weeks you will be forced to sit and think about what to buy for people you don’t really like.

You may have even already asked them what they want to open as a gift 7 days before the end of the year and have been met with a reply of “Ooh, I don’t really need anything… but I don’t want gloves, perfume, candles, gift cards, CD’s, DVD’s etc” Which doesn’t really leave much to choose from.

With this shopping headache in mind and just before you decide to buy a wicker basket for that relative that knows what they don’t want but doesn’t know what they DO want, may I present to you all a guide to shopping this Christmas.

Remember that when dealing with shopping staff: You are a god to these people.

You may have only been to that shop three times in the past six months and spent about 25 quid but that doesn't mean you can't be as condescending as you please with statements like "I pay your wages".

That'll learn 'em.

And remember- nothing guarantees a cheery smile and great customer service than a good old jab your bony finger.

But shops may not be your thing. What with all the pushing a shoving and queuing and what not. You may wish to do your shopping online, or may just need to speak to the bank to check that you have just enough pennies in your ever increasing overdraft to sustain a last minute splurge on that bath set that Auntie Colin (don’t ask) defiantly said she didn’t want.

In that case here is some advice just for you:

When dealing with call centres it is always best to demand (not ask) to speak to the manager, or if your issue is very minor, the chief executive of the company.

Manager not available = Trying to get the phone number of the new agency girl

Management loves dealing with whiny little piss ants like you. They crave any excuse to not have to deal with their members of staff crying or trying to jump out of windows due to the barrage of abuse shitheads like you dish out for fun....

If all else fails, when dealing over the phone, remember that thinly veiled threats never go out of fashion. 

Once you are in full flow in your argument with a faceless voice you have just confirmed your own name home address, password and bank details too, dot let the sudden cold realisation that you have financially exposed yourself to an underpaid overworked person who is only trying to help and is crawling nearer and nearer to the edge of insanity after listening to endless calks just like yours.

No, don’t let that stop you from acting like a child.

After all YOU are the customer. YOU are very important.

And don’t forget to spend ALL your money on other people. The last thing you want to do is have some cash left for the January sales. Where you can treat yourself to a proper bargin. (Just like you forgot to do last year!)

Piss and Good Pills to all men.....BLEUGH!!!

As a last point of note:

When at the supermarket on the last weekend before the big break, make sure you act all surprised and confused and outraged at the fact that the shelves are not fully stocked with the ever popular products that you want to buy.

As we all know, all shops are simple made of money and have a limitless supply of every single type of food produce that never goes out of date at any time ever, and just because everyone else will have had the common sense to do their shopping in a reasonable amount of time therefore resulting in depleted stocks (just as the supermarkets have planned for) the fact that you have left everything to the very last minute should not reflect on you as a person in any way shape of form.

You are the customer. Your own idiocy should not mean that you should go without.

Its two days before Christmas. Minimum wage staff should feel lucky to be shouted and abused by you at any time of the year. Let alone during the festive period where the mantra of “good will to all men” is aimed at other people towards you. It is not something for you to follow.

Just because these people have unrestricted access to the food you buy and full bladders shouldn’t mean you show the slightest hint of respect to anyone at anytime.

Oh yes. And don’t forget to leave your trolley in the middle of the aisle while you disappear to pick up some posh cheese that nobody will eat (because they HATE YOU). Let everyone else shop around you.

In conclusion: Screw everyone else. Push in, grab, shove, moan, complain, shout, demand and never EVER tip.

Happy Birthday to meeee.... (and my son who I also am...??)

If we are lucky, this Myan end of the world nonsense might have a ring of truth about it and we’ll be blown up or just disappear like dust in the breeze by the 21^st and we won’t have to sit through another year of endless BBC repeats and piss poor Doctor Who “specials”.

Good luck to you all and god bless internet shopping!

The Failure That Is Bumferry Hogart

Today I went into town in order to take my driving theory test (yes, I’m still taking driving lessons) and – as any stand up comic worth their salt would say – a funny thing happened….

… Although the word FUNNY is probably not the right descriptive term to use.

To cut a long and boring story short, I’d forgotten to take the correct paper work with me, In fact I didn’t have the correct documents at home either but that’s another tale for another time.

The old grumpy bastard behind the desk uttered the following sentence once I informed him that I had no idea I needed paperwork on top of my licence photo ID with my name, full address, date of birth and FACE on it…

“You might as well go, there’s no point in me talking to YOU!”

Gob smacked at the lack of customer service I did indeed walk out.

Apart from the totally c*ntworthyness of the prick who was slumped behind the desk, I was indeed in the wrong in respect of the missing important documents. However two other points were brought to light in this little adventure of mine.

Firstly: Some people are not ‘people’ people (if you know what I mean).

Secondly: I am so bad at learning to drive that I was told to leave the testing centre before even being given a pen.

It has not been a good week for me.

Complaint letter has been sent is respect of the shithouse who spoke to me and the dog has received a good kicking on my return*.

Ooh!

I’ve just thought a really good thing I should have said to him when I was there…. Bugger. I hate when that happens.

I'm going to sit in a dark corner now and feel quite embarrassed and confused and stupid and angry.

*I didn’t kick the dog. He’s fast asleep. I’ll do it later when Mrs H isn’t looking.

How Does Steven Hawkins Manage?

As we near the end of April I also find myself reaching the end of my patience with technology.

Yet again my teeth are being ground down to the nerve by the never ending gnashing and grinding of my jaw.

I have very little faith that I would be of any use whatsoever in the event of some kind of global catastrophe.

WHY MEEEEEEEE!!!!

Never before in the history of the human race have we become so utterly dependant so very quickly upon little tiny machines made of cheap plastic and wires.

In the week that celebrates the 30^th anniversary of the Spectrum ZX I find myself cursing the invention of electricity.

30 Years old and as useless today as I am!

From the buzzing noise of the fan from my laptop to the failure of Sky Go to... well- GO! To the resounding sulkiness of my mobile phone refusing to accept an update.

The other night I wanted to watch the football. However MRs H had taken control of the remote control and was in charge so it was zombies all the way (until it got dark anyway – she won’t watch horror after dark – the wimp!)

But not being able to watch a game of kicking ball on the big screen is not the end of the world anymore. We now have the ability to view live action from across the world on the little boxes on our laps. And so that is what I set out to do.

Clicking on the link I eagerly awaited the screen to launch into the Chelsea v Barcelona game.

But alas this is what popped up in front of my eyes instead.

Bastards!

After many attempts and a little swearing I gave up and decided to speak to somebody at sky TV direct to resolve this issue of mine.

Here is an extract from my conversion...

Click to Englarge - as the acress said to the bishop...

Alas I missed what I am led to believe was a very entertaining example of Millionaires’ running about for a bit.

It seems apparent that with all this doodads and gadgets we now have in our lives to make things easier all we have is done is make things even more complicated and when something that we take for granted suddenly stops working... the whole world might as well take a tea break.

That’s how it seems to me anyway.

Oh yea – and Blogger doesn’t help itself either.

Rant over.

Carry on.

998 Ways To Keep You On Hold

Every one of us, at some point in our lives, has had the misfortune of having to make a phone call to the dreaded customer service department.

SHOUTING MAKES THINGS HAPPEN!!!

These soulless third rate keyboard monkeys purposefully leave us hold for what seems like hours on end and are the most unhelpful scum in the world.

Or are they.

In my previous live I was employed by an insurance company to answer the phones on a range of subjects relating to their policies. These included matters relating to pensions, tax free savings and life insurance.

In the 5 years I spent sat behind a desk, hidden away in my little cubical, staring at computer screen and wondering how much radiation was flooding into my brain via my eyes, I witnessed some of the most selfish, depraved and childish aspects of human nature.

My love for life and the future of our race as a whole slowly but surely evaporated with each and every call I took and has left me as the broken man who is typing these words you are reading now.

Of the thousands of calls I had to endure, some of them stick out in my mind.

The follow list contains genuine examples of conversations that were forever recorded in “THE CRYSTAL BALL!”

The CRYSTAL BALL was nothing short of a piece of paper that members of the team would write down the strange, idiotic and downright weird requests and statements that our beloved customers just had to make.

The full list contains over 150 differing examples of mind numbingly stupid brain farts made by members of the public, but here I submit just a small sample of what the general public believed were relevant and important questions to ask.

To get the most out this list imagine that each line containing the word CUSTOMER (C) is being screamed at you in one ear, and where it says ADVISOR (A) all self respect has been vanquished from you soul.

           CUSTOMER: Can you transfer me to the motor department? The number one doesn’t work on my   phone.

       C:        Where it says date of birth, what do I write?

            C:         Why do you not have an office in Australia?

       C:         “I just want to query this letter you sent...

ADVISOR: Did you receive the letter today?

C: No . . . 1989”

            C:            The last time I looked at this piece of paper it had two numbers on it, now it only has one. Why is this?

            C:                     Are you still open?

       C:             Why do you want a urine sample through the post?

 

While helping a customer complete a life claim form...

Me - “can you tell me the date of death of your husband?”

Customer” um... (Off the phone) Karen... KAREN... *pause* when did your dad die?.... (long pause)... well, check on the fridge. . .*small pause* . . . yes, it was last Tuesday.”

C:            I can’t hear you I’m deaf.

C:            My mum is dead. Where is she?

C:            Can you make my cheque take longer to get to me, I don’t want it yet.

C:            I have just found out I’m going deaf, so I will have to shout.

C:            What number have I dialled?

C:            What does as soon as possible mean?

C:            How busy will your phone lines be tomorrow?

C:            I have to unroll this elastic band and I’m not very good with my legs...will hang on?

C:            What happens if there is another 9/11 next year.

C:            I want my life policy payable to my dog Jacko!”

C:            Why is my bonus in 1997 less than in 2007?

A:            Because you get more bonuses each year.

C:            So why was it less in 1997?

A:            Because you get MORE bonuses every year.

A:            What is your house number?

C:            I live in a bungalow.

C:            Are you real?

C:            Zeros confuse me

C:            I want to change my address with you, but I don’t know where I’m moving too.

C:            I’ve just had an HIV test and it came back negative. How will this affect my savings account?

C:            Why am I getting other people post, it’s not even my address?

A:            What is the date of death?

C:            I don’t know... would that be on the birth certificate.

A:            I need to speak to your husband for authorisation....

C:            But. . .  he’s blind!

 

C:            Have you received my cheque?

A:            Which department did you address it to so I can check?

C:            I didn’t, I just putthe cheque in the postbox and thought it would get to you!

C:            Do you have MY death certificate? I can’t find it.

C:            My husband was brutally murdered in November, can I take a payment holiday on my pension.

C:            I’ve just given some money to a man. Was he one of yours?

C:            I have a statement that says January 2005 to December 2005 – that’s the wrong way round!

C:            How do I put money into a bank account?

But the winner of all of these idiotic murmurings has to go to the follow example of pure human stupidity...

CUSTOMER: Where do I send my claim form into?

ADVISOR: Head office.

CUSTOMER: Which floor?

ADVISOR: 6^th floor.

CUSTOMER: Oh, that’s where I work!!!!!!

So, the next time you ring a help desk, or a call centre, spare a thought for the sad and lonely people who have to sit and listen to the likes of you prattling on about your stupid little problems. 

The first time you have had to ring customer services in about three years is the EXACT time you should lose your rag and go absolutely mental down to the phone to a person you didn’t catch the name of, you have no idea what kind of day THEY are having and you have just confirmed the full details of your home address bank account to them.

"I'M GOING TO WRITE TO THE FINANCIAL "BUS-MAN" ABOUT YOU!"

It’s not like they haven’t heard it all before.