Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Trained by a fantasist

I have a job now. You'll be morbidly jealous when you find out what I'm doing. Get this - I'm working in a CALL CENTRE! For MINIMUM WAGE! And I even have to pay £30 to hire my own headset. I get the £30 back when I leave the job if I return the headset 'in good condition.' When I was told this, I felt a little self-pitying at how low I have debased myself. It's the 21st century equivalent of going down t' pit. With less death and blood and disease and hard work, obviously.

I have to wear a tie and smart shirt too. Why?

As my musings on this blog are fed directly on my Facebook page I have changed my security settings on the latter. Only friends and family can view me know. As I may write about my employment , I don't want Them reading about it. Maybe I should take my picture off this site too.

Anyway, I don't know if you are aware of the tall tale telling character 'Aldridge Prior the Hopeless Liar' from Viz magazine. It appears he is training me. I am stuck in a room for the week learning the job from a man who regularly, even continously, interrupts his work to make claims such as:

1.) His dad was a major in the British army. He trained Nato forces all over the world and thus ole dog's mess claims to have lived in just about every country on the planet.

He eats a croissant very day because he lived in the south of France when he was 11 and ate one every on the way to school every day. Fresh from the bakery.

'Where did you live in France?' asked one of my new colleagues.

He uhmmed and ahhhd and rapped his knuckles on the table pretending to remember.

'Somewhere in the south' he eventually offered. He can speak 'a bit of French' too. Surprisingly, he didn't show it off.

His dad's work also took him to the USA for a few months, so our boy was awarded an American passport. But the Americans took it off him when they discovered he had a British passport. This greatly annoys him.

Later, we were discussing the countries of the Commonwealth, as this is relevant to the job. He reeled off Canada, South Africa and New Zealand............and then mused that Burgundy in France was part of the Commonwealth too. 'That's where the Normans who invaded England came from,' he solemnly informed us.

Yeah, the Normans from Burgundy. The Normburgundians?

2.) He keeps going on about his various mystery illnesses, many of which involve his rectum. He couldn't follow his dad's army career because he strained a muscle in his back and had to retire to bed for several months.

Then he told us that the company frowned if you took more than 12 mins toilet break per day (FFS!) . He used to get told off for running to the toilet all time himself, but now he has special dispensation because he has Crohn's disease. It used to affect him very badly but if he cuts out wheat, sugar and acidic foods he can control it.

"Aye, that's why you're drinking a bottle of Coke!" interjected the young lady to my right.

And sure enough, while he'd been telling us this he's been swigging away from a 500ml bottle of Coca Cola.

He ignored her and informed us that if he keeps running out the door it's because of his Crohn's. Which isn't very bad. His friend's Crohn's is much worse.

He hasn't run out the door once. And he stuffs himself with croissants, fries and sugary drinks.

I used to work with a guy who had to take a daily cocktail of drugs and was frequently hospitalised by his awful Crohn's disease. Funny, that.

3.) He has a criminal record. He broke into a house 14 years before he was born. How's that you ask? Well, someone with exactly the same name as him lived in his parents' home before they bought it. This fella was 14 years older than our trainer. And because he had a record for breaking and entering it was transferred to our bloke and he just can't get rid of it. Doesn't matter how often he complains. He went to police headquarters and everything. But he just can't get rid. His reputation is forever sullied.

4.) His uncle was in the navy and he and his mates got two days leave on an island so they went mad and got blind drunk for two days and suddenly they realised they had to get back to the ship so they stole a 2CV but the clutch broke so they fixed it with a shoelace but that burnt so the uncle climbed on the bonnet and moved the clutch by hand while they drove at 60 mph, then they crashed the car and stole a boat and got back to the ship but - get this! - the leave was for 3 DAYS not 2 DAYS! They hadn't realised they had an extra day! And all the sirens were screaming on the island as the authorities looked for the phantom car and boat thieves. Ha!

Later, the uncle was shot by pirates in the Suez. Blew his shoulder off, they found it on board behind a pillar. Pity, the uncle spoke 4 languages, all self-taught, he could have been a navy translator.


whynotsmile said...

As I have said before, what doesn't kill you makes good blog fodder.

And I think we may be getting some good blogging from you for a while...

Wandering Photographer said...

£30 quid for the headset? Minimum wage? I reckon you should be paying them for all the comedy value!

Jeez! Don't let it do your head in mate (and definitely anonymise yourself!)

I met a certain mutual friend the other day (one who is England bound). We were talking about going out for a pint and your name was mentioned as a (probably) willing accomplice. ;)

bresker said...

Sounds good WP. I have not touched alcohol in many weeks. This job will drive me to it before long.

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