Shutting the Door

This blog is principally about work, the workplace, other peoples workplaces and generally about dickheads. Well, once, I was a dickhead. It’s be no good me going round pretending to be perfect all the time. I am now, obviously, but once I was a massive lary dickhead. Have a read:

I’ve changed the names of those involved to protect their privacy.*

That reminds me of the time we went to Bob’s 18th Birthday Party. I was driving there, and his mum said we could sleep in the lounge. Except we all got really hammered and accidentally broke some garden funiture (how many people can get on this chair – about 8 before the legs bend off) so she kicked us all out. But he lived in the arsehole end of nowheresville. Such a shit place to live. Such a shit place to be stuck drunk with a car and four mates. So we had to sleep in the car. We weren’t drunk enough to actually sleep so instead we beeped the horn every 15 minutes on the dot. Just long enough to let his parents fall asleep before the horn woke them up. At the time I had a swish Fiat Uno Start. Om Om. Had a horn like a 15 year old girls squeel. It was great until the bloke who lived next door came out and threatened to kill us. Except Jeff told him to fuck himself. So then he threatened to smash up the car (got it all backwards didn’t he, murder to damage). Then Jeff got out ran to the man’s house and shut his front door before running off down the road. So the man went fucking mental because it was 3am and he couldn’t get into his house and he lived alone. He was only wearing shorts and it was November time, so he was beggining to shiver a bit. Then he started screaming in the road at the top of his voice and someone threatend to call the police. This was a bit before everybody had mobile phones, I was an early adopter and had one but Jeff didn’t. I guess at the time I was the equivelent of todays iphone kids. But anyway, we didn’t know where Jeff was so i could drive off, and i was still drunk obviously. So we started telling this man stories about how hard our dad’s were and how they were wrestlers and that’s how we knew each other. He started attacking the car with a plastic rake so I had to drive 50m down the road. He started to chase us, then stopped, so i stopped. But when I stopped he started chasing us again. Anyway, we kept up this charade for about 250yrds. Did a u-turn and drove back down the road. The man was panting on the pavement so we just drove past him and parked up at the end of the road waiting for Jeff. The man sat on the pavement with his head and his rake in his hands, so we started beeping every 2 minutes this time and he went fucking mental again like King Kong. Then I drove round the corner to the village carpark and we all fell asleep. Jeff came back two hours later and woke us all up with a loaf of hovis and a block of cheap butter which we spread with my house key. They sure don’t make breakfast like they used to. Gunther was in the back of the car was straight edge but never learned to drive. What’s the fucking point in being a straighty and not learning to drive. Dickhead.

*and exagerated a bit.