The switch.
Wednesday 25 July 2007
The breaking news upon arriving for my shift this evening was being told by #1 that The Lodge, due to a vast number of complaints, can now no longer work the lower bar, and must work exclusively in the main complex. This sucks for various reasons, but most notably because I will now have to do the lower bar a couple of times a week.
Complaints? Numerous things, including but not limited to being generally lazy and sitting around doing crossword puzzles and the like, blindly oblivious to all and sundry entering the venue. And - heavens, no - somebody saw her playing the over-eighteen fruit machines. Not my words - those are the words of Heat magazine. No, sorry: #1. The Lodge was furious, spent two hours in the lodge being angry, and then went home with 'a migraine', not actually working a single minute in the main complex. Ho hum. I give it a week before she threatens to quit over this and is reinstated down below. They'll die before they lose a female DS, although coincidentally a new one began working - on park - yesterday. Don't fret - she's rough as old boots. And bossy, I've heard. Not a winning combo.
So, as said, tonight I worked the lower bar, and Christ, it was about as exciting as a Pope-approved cut of The Exorcist. So, instead, I'll leave you with this joke, which is good enough that for a moment you might actually be able to persuade yourself that it could actually work in real life.
A bloke is racing down the motorway, 120mph. Naturally, it's not long before a police car is chasing behind him, siren raging. The guy pulls over, and the cop gets out of his car, walks across and taps on the window. The man winds it down.
"Do you know what speed you were doing?" asks the copper.
"Yeah," says the man, "About 120 miles per hour."
The cop looks annoyed. "Can I see your license please?" he asks.
"Sorry mate," says the bloke, "I don't have it with me."
By now the policeman is fuming. "Get out of the car, now," he says.
"Alright mate," says the bloke, "But first you need to know a couple of things. One, I've got a loaded handgun in the glove compartment. And two, in the boot is the body of a man I just killed in cold blood."
The cop is suddenly nervous. Panicking, he gets on his radio, demanding serious backup. It's not long before several police vehicles have pulled up, and even the Chief Superintendent has arrived. After speaking to the constable, he immediately takes charge of the case, and marches over to the bloke, who is still seated in his car.
"Sir, can you open your glove compartment for me please?"
The man does as he is asked. Inside is nothing but his driving license. The Chief's eyes narrow, but he says nothing more.
"Right, can you now open the boot of your car for me please?"
The man gets out of his car, opens the boot and, lo and behold, inside is nothing but his golf clubs.
The Chief looks confused. "I don't understand," he says, "My constable said you had a loaded gun in your glove compartment, and the body of a dead man in the boot."
The man looks at the Chief, and, shaking his head, says, "Oh really? I bet the cunt said I was speeding too, didn't he?"
posted by Sheamus @ 2:30 am
