Customer Service:

Fuck me i can't even start on Currys or Dixon's before them. Such a fuckin mess, wound up even mentioning either or them !
 
Saddleworth2 said:
I'm reading between the lines that you and Mrs T don't like spiders. Incisive detection worthy of Sherlock himself.for me, spiders are in same category as bees. They are meted out a suspended sentence dependent on good behaviour. Bluebottles and wasps suffer the full black cap treatment chez nous.
Click to expand...

I agree with the bluebottles.I wouldn't even give them a blindfold or a last fag.
I was skint many years back and inbetween jobs.
Out everyday on the hunt but no luck until someone said why not give the maggot farm a go.
They were called Pennine Bait and situated on Todmorden moor with an alleged high turnover of staff.
I got my best gear on and cold canvassed them.
As luck would have it they were taking on but he said some of the villagers were taking the piss and not turning back in so they now do it on a days trial with pay.Could I do the trial now he said and they would find me some overalls and wellies so I agreed.
The dungarees he gave me hadn't been washed for months.

He walked me round the factory explaining the mechanics and first up it was the business end and the Fly room.
As we got nearer he said are you ok with bluebottles lad and I said I loved them and they were my favourite : /
Fact of the matter is they make me heave and I was already feeling giddy with the smell of the place.
We approached the fly room and it had giant overlapping flaps of heavy duty plastic dropping down the door to try to contain them.
The noise was a sickening hum and in we went.Sweet baby jesus the air was black with them and the floor crunched under our feet.
The fly room was large and had trays of meat and waste offal where they laid their eggs.Then they got moved to room two where the infant maggots hatched out.

As we were in the fly room Seth was interviewing me on the spot as the flies crawled around his head like nothing was out of place.
For fifteen minutes I spoke in the style of a ventriloquist about my voluntary work in the community and how I liked walking and swimming and chatted utter shit to get the job.

Great news he was to give me an immediate start and I made my way to the delivery room to offload a wagon that had just come in.
Three hours to unload donkeys heads and hosses hoofs and I was nearly done in with the job but thankfully dinner time was here.
It was three miles up on Tod moors so no shops or chippies.Seth said grab a table in the packing room and scav a buttie and brew off the girls.
This girl ? on the main machine sat at the end of a conveyer belt and packed the maggots into plastic tubs with her bare hands.
I am not being distrespectful but she looked like an extra out of the film The Hills Have Eyes !
Anyway I sat at a table next to her with my brew and she offered me a buttie but I politely declined.She proceeded to eat it like a gannet in one swallow..

The bell went for the end of break just as I was kicking off my last wellie.
I would sooner amputate my testicles with a blunt fish knife or set fire to my toes than spend a second longer in there.
I gave the building a last backward glance and made my way to the bus stop.
After 50 minutes it came and the driver asked me to get back off as I smelt so bad : (
The smell is of a strong pissy ammonia and also rotten meat ..I walked into bacup and got a lift home.
I had to bin all my best interview clothes and it took five days for the smell to come out of my pores.
When I see a bluebottle now I have flashbacks.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
I was a team leader within the service environment for a few years. Had a bad experience? Tell us about it! We need to know.
 
Taxi said:
I agree with the bluebottles.I wouldn't even give them a blindfold or a last fag !
I was skint many years back and inbetween jobs.
Out everyday on the hunt but no luck until someone said why not give the maggot farm a go.
They were called Pennine Bait and situated on Todmorden moor with an alleged high turnover of staff.
I got my best gear on and cold canvassed them.
As luck would have it they were taking on but he said some of the villagers were taking the piss and not turning back in so they now do it on a days trial with pay.Could I do the trial now he said and they would find me some overalls and wellies so I agreed with much enthuisiasm.
The dungarees he gave me hadn't been washed for months.

He walked me round the factory explaining the mechanics and first up it was the business end and the Fly room.
As we got nearer he said are you ok with bluebottles lad and I said I loved them and they were my favourite : /
Fact of the matter is they make me heave and I was already feeling giddy with the smell of the place.
We approached the fly room and it had giant overlapping flaps of heavy duty plastic dropping down the door to try to contain them.
The noise was a sickening hum and in we went.Sweet baby jesus the air was black with them and the floor crunched under our feet.
The fly room was large and had trays of meat and waste offal where they laid their eggs.Then they got moved to room two where the infant maggots hatched out.

As we were in the fly room Seth was interviewing me on the spot as the flies crawled around his head like nothing was out of place.
For fifteen minutes I spoke like a ventriloquist of my voluntary work in the community and how I liked walking and swimming and chatting utter shit to get the job.

Great news he was to give me an immediate start and I made my way to the delivery room to offload a wagon that had just come in.
Three hours to unload donkeys heads and hosses hoofs and I was nearly done in with the job but thankfully dinner time was here.
It was three miles up on Tod moors so no shops or chippies.Seth said grab a table in the packing room and scav a buttie and brew off the girls.
This girl ? on the main machine sat at the end of a conveyer belt and packed the maggots into plastic tubs with her bare hands.
I am not being distrespectful but she looked like an extra out of the film The Hills Have Eyes !
Anyway I sat at a table next to her with my brew and she offered me a buttie with her hands that she was packing the maggots with but I politely declined.She proceeded to eat it like a gannet in one swallow..

The bell went for the end of break just as I was kicking off my last wellie.
I would sooner amputate my testicles with a blunt fish knife or set fire to my toes than spend a second longer in there.
I gave the building a last backward glance and made my way to the bus stop.
After 50 minutes it came and the driver asked me to get back off as I smelt so bad : (
The smell is of a strong pissy ammonia and also rotten meat ..I walked into bacup and got a lift home.
I had to bin all my best interview clothes and it took five days for the smell to come out of my pores.
When I see a bluebottle now I have flashbacks.
Click to expand...
You could make a horror story quaint of that. I am not surprised it's seared into your memory bank! I probably used the end product when I was a lad fishing for Barbel on the beautiful river swale in Yorkshire. Just watching your bait box pulse with maggots when you took the lid off was bad enough! I had a friend whose party trick was letting the little blighters wriggle between his teeth. He always insisted that they were very clean. At least they were once they had spent 5 minutes in the loony's gob!
 
Blacks outdoor shop in town.
Bought a pair of Brasher walking boots (£140) and they started to leak and come apart after 2 weeks. Took 'em back with the toe cap and front sole flapping about. Manager flat refused to do anything until they'd been sent away for 'appraisal' by an expert. 'The fucking sole's falling off' i say. Unfit for purpose, covered by statutory guarantee, obvious they're fucked etc etc and still nowt.
Get head office on phone who just repeat same shit. I've been in the shoe making game for 30 years so i ask who the 'expert' is. 'Can't tell you that' they say. I point out that the boots use inferior micro-cellular sheeting for the midsole and the lasting margin on the toe is about 1 cm too short, and the fcuking sole is flapping about for anyone to see. Still nowt.

My blood is boiling now so i take me boots back and leave. Get home and find out head office is just down the road from me. I go down and find the chap i was on the phone to. After showing him the boots he says yeah, it's obviously a fault in manufacture and shop manager should've, and could have, made that decision in store and sorted it out. AARRGGHH.

He gets on phone to shop and sorts me a £150 voucher out and i leave, taking boots with me. Went back to shop but no boots in my size so i bought a torch and asked for the cash balance. Cue frantic, confused manager getting back on phone. Two minutes later i walk away with a shiny new torch (its still in the drawer) and £140 notes.
Fixed the boots meself and they are still going strong 5 years later. Bastards.
 
I have an ongoing situation with BT where the B is bastards and Sky where the K is Kunts, that does my head in so much, I can't even write it down.
 
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