Messing up at work?

Fugley-fisher

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@The Landlord yea moving a proper barrel about takes a bit of skill, a 22 is a proper lump cegs at 22l a 9 or 18, especially if your celler is low and cramped. I don't miss it.
 

MunchMyStump

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Alan. He was a tight sod. When I say tight I really mean TIGHT! We were on good money, we could afford the finer things in life and when we worked away we were given expenses on top of our wages. If we worked a bank holiday or a weekend it was double time, the gravy train was rolling and so were we.
If we went out Alan was the last to join us, the last one at the bar. Drinks would arrive, one of us would have bought them but because it was free money no one kept a tally, we just did it.
Not Alan. Oh no... He wrote the book on penny pinching did Alan.
He would be the last to arrive and being the kind of people we are Alan's pint would be waiting for him.
Not once in all the work we did together did Alan buy a round, I seriously don't think he bought a pint for anyone but himself.
So we were in Amsterdam. Diary of Anne Frank.
Alan liked to look the part, smart tailored suit, crevette, polished shoes, cufflinks. You know the type.. He's a ruddy painter with ides of grandeur.
So there we were at the hotel bar, we had booked a table for the seven of us to eat and we were still waiting for Alan...
The maître de was beginning to get annoyed as the table had been ready for some time whilst we waited for Scrooge incarnate to grace us with his presence.
Bugger it said dad, I'm fed up with him. Lets teach the tight sod a lesson!
What are we going to do I asked?
Watch...
Barman! Take a shot of every spirit you have behind the bar and put it all into one glass, that is Mr Alan's drink. we are going to eat.

Eat we did. We went through all the courses and were heading back to the bar when Alan finally arrived.
There he was! Resplendent in a brand new tailor made suit he had just collected, new shirt and new crevette. This was some serious money!

A great part about this tale is the hotel itself and that you could not take drinks from the bar into the restaurant. Whether my dad played this or it was sheer luck, who knows?

So as we sat at the bar the maître de summoned Alan. Your Table is ready Sir. In reply the bar man said but Sir there is a drink already bought for you. You cannot take it into the restaurant....
Being the tight sod he was he waisted no time in necking the pint of concocted spirits that had been bought earlier and headed off to enjoy his meal.

It was not long after that the maître de hurriedly came back, your friend, you must help your friend!
What's wrong with him?
Come see was the reply!
There he was, the tightest man any of us new, covered in tomatoe soup. He had face planted the bowl which had flipped up and literally covered the whole of his new outfit. He was out for the count! The concoction of spirits had hit him and hit him hard.
So once again there were were, an arm and a leg apiece but this time it was to his room and not to hospital.
Once we got him to his room there was the brief discussion of whether we should undress him, it was very brief and the answer was no. Let the soup soak in...

Alan did not come out of his room after that, he simply bought a flight home and went on the sick for a while.
When we came to check out ourselves, the manager said our friend had left some of his clothing in the room. They had tried to get it cleaned but it was too badly stained. There was however a bill for the cleaning.
Alan had used his credit in the hotel so we suggested they use the card details to pay for the unsuccessful cleaning and we would take it back to YTV for him....

Alan never came away to work with us abroad again. He did get his suit back though. We gave it to him as a Christmas present....

Munchy
 

Mrs Munch

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Unbelievably, I've never messed up at work. Except this one time, in the mortuary but I'm not allowed to talk about that ????
 
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