(no subject)
Nov. 24th, 2006 10:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolWent to work. Slow shift. First call of the night turns out to be somewhere I'v never heard of, but the young man on the phone tells me, very politely, how to find the house.
Erm, I couldn't. As I drove down the dark country lanes, I could't find the house, so I phoned him, told him exactly where I was, and he gave me more directions.
So I followed them, and ended up at a small cluster of houses, all unmarked, or so it seemed in the dark and rain. I randomly knocked on one, and a young mum told me that she knew of the existence of this house, but it was 'ages along'. By this point, it's pitch-black and I don't feel safe or secure in trying to find this godforsaken house in the middle of a track off a country lane.
I phone up the nice young man, again, tell him that I can't find the house, and I'm very sorry but I don't feel comfortable driving in the pitch-black with the weather conditions when I don't know the area, could he please meet me at the roundabout near to where he lives and I'll knock off the delivery charge and I'm very sorry for his inconvenience?
Nice young man is apparently a raging psychopath. "What are you, a fucking incompetent bint?"
I make fish noises down the phone. "Stupid cow. I'll meet you there since you can't do your fucking job."
I am very, very glad that where I said to met was in St Andrews itself, with streetlights, because he sounded aggressive and I may have made things worse when I bumped up the price and have myself the delivery charge after all. He complained (more accusations of my incompetence and much more swearing) and then handed over the money, because I told him that he wasn't getting the food otherwise.
He was young, with a nice car, and a toned body and for the first time, I actually felt afraid I was about to get a kicking by some nutter on what, despite being lit, was still a pretty quiet part of town. Then I went back to work, burst into tears because between the horrible fear that driving down narrow country lanes with deep ditches on either side brings ANYWAY plus a downright scary customer it was doubleplus ungood. Lynette the counter girl hugged me and we bitch for ten minutes.
Mrs Wong told me off for putting a customer off ordering again. Maybe I'm not describing it right, but there was something in the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes that said if he wanted, he could kick my head in.
And I didn't even make £10 all told, tonight. So remind me why I do this job again?
(I'm going to go and curl up in bed, now.)
Erm, I couldn't. As I drove down the dark country lanes, I could't find the house, so I phoned him, told him exactly where I was, and he gave me more directions.
So I followed them, and ended up at a small cluster of houses, all unmarked, or so it seemed in the dark and rain. I randomly knocked on one, and a young mum told me that she knew of the existence of this house, but it was 'ages along'. By this point, it's pitch-black and I don't feel safe or secure in trying to find this godforsaken house in the middle of a track off a country lane.
I phone up the nice young man, again, tell him that I can't find the house, and I'm very sorry but I don't feel comfortable driving in the pitch-black with the weather conditions when I don't know the area, could he please meet me at the roundabout near to where he lives and I'll knock off the delivery charge and I'm very sorry for his inconvenience?
Nice young man is apparently a raging psychopath. "What are you, a fucking incompetent bint?"
I make fish noises down the phone. "Stupid cow. I'll meet you there since you can't do your fucking job."
I am very, very glad that where I said to met was in St Andrews itself, with streetlights, because he sounded aggressive and I may have made things worse when I bumped up the price and have myself the delivery charge after all. He complained (more accusations of my incompetence and much more swearing) and then handed over the money, because I told him that he wasn't getting the food otherwise.
He was young, with a nice car, and a toned body and for the first time, I actually felt afraid I was about to get a kicking by some nutter on what, despite being lit, was still a pretty quiet part of town. Then I went back to work, burst into tears because between the horrible fear that driving down narrow country lanes with deep ditches on either side brings ANYWAY plus a downright scary customer it was doubleplus ungood. Lynette the counter girl hugged me and we bitch for ten minutes.
Mrs Wong told me off for putting a customer off ordering again. Maybe I'm not describing it right, but there was something in the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes that said if he wanted, he could kick my head in.
And I didn't even make £10 all told, tonight. So remind me why I do this job again?
(I'm going to go and curl up in bed, now.)
no subject
Date: 2006-11-24 11:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-25 01:40 am (UTC)"i'm sorry officer? why shouldn't i have a screwdriver? they're incredibly useful, you know, if a plug breaks or you want to unscrew your extractor fan cover to clean it... i just happened to have it with me when he started harrassing me, and purely in self-defence i happened to drive it into his eye..."
my dad sometimes keeps a hammer in his car, but as he's into DIY he can get away with it a bit easier.
other than that, quit the fucking job.
*huggles*