» Jobsworths

Walthamstow Job Centre
OK, it's like this....

In 2002, I was working as a contractor. (I'm in IT.) In the March, a contract finished, and the market dried up. Me, Mrs IZM & Son of IZM struggled on (income support but no mortgage payments because the work was finite - grr) but come autumn we needed to sell the house before someone sold it for us, if you catch my drift. The house 'made' a profit of £55K, but we only took away £3,500 - the rest was accumulated debt to Granny IZM (wife's mother), various cards etc.

So we sell up & move in with Granny IZM in E17. No choice. I go up to Walthamstow Job Centre and say, in my best cheery & polite manner, 'hello, I was signing on in Gravesend & now I need to sign on here.'

"Oh really Sir, why?"
"We've sold the house (& then explain it all)"
"Ah well you can only sign on if you have less than £8K savings. Can you prove the outgoings?"
"Of course. I'll supply a breakdown."

So I did. I am being ultra helpful, not concealing a damn thing, not lying at all here. I am Playing The Game.

And they came back and said I shouldn't have paid off £32K of debt as a whole; instead I should have serviced the interest instead until I'd worn it down to £8K, then they'd give me £100 less per month than the interest payment. Anyone care to spot what's just WRONG with that assertion? (Like it leaves me 3100 a month short before I've paid for little things like food, nappies etc.?)

Everything I told them was the 100% absolute truth, and I did my level best to keep my family afloat; but some small minded twunt thought otherwise and seemed to take joy in my circumstance. I wouldn't mind if they enforced a sensible rule, but to try to force an unemployed man NOT to wipe out £24K of debt WHEN HE CAN is just ridiculous. Arseholes. Pure unrelenting twatmongers, every bastard one of them.

So, to Walthamstow Job Centre and those people who worked there that spitefully and deliberately tried to push me under when I needed help, not one of your people was worth a shit. Sack them now.

Cnuts.

I did a stretch at the DSA in Nottingham, another pit of jobsworth fuckwittery which can also get regally fucked, but that's another story.

Take it from me though, the Civil Service, especially at mid-management levels, is where people go who are too shit at whatever they do to work in the real world. The only good people there were the union bods, and they were fucking top!
(Sat 14th May 2005, 0:04, More)

» Sacked

Civil Service
In 2003, I landed a job at a certain department of the Civil Service based in an East Midlands city. It was a pretty crappy job, but after a few months on the dole and having lost the house, I needed to be able to support wife & child, so I bit this particular bullet.

It took four interviews to get the job. Four! For a £26K post! FFS! That included a trip to said city, reasonably enough, and a trip to Birmingham for no fathomably good reason; all 4 of these were from NE London. Two were in NW London too. Make of that what you will.

So I get this job, and get landed with a team of three called the Dream Team, because that's what they weren't.

Team Member #1 was the best of the lot - old guy, one grade below me, doing his time until he retired. Good honest chap, bit jobsworthy sometimes, but generally a Good Bloke. Nothing bad to say there.

Team member #2 was a woman in her late thirties , a cancer survivor - but from the way she told it, she may as well have been a victim. (Before we go further, my mum died of cancer so off your high horses.) Fat arse, hunch back, pin head, shit haircut and the personality of Goebbels. Nasty spiteful piece of shit. Again one grade below me but thought she was better. Evidently not or you'd have got my job!

Team member #3 was late twenties short dumpy woman, wannabe Yuppie scum though. Bought a brand new MG-TF, then decided it was too low to the ground to drive. After hubby has done what 15K and up? on it. Wanted a Burberry bag to carry when she went out in her jeans under the impression that it was a 'good look'. Quite. Obsessive compulsive too, so at least the stationary cupboard was tidy.

So anyway, I get assigned these three and a task to oversee a piece of work which wasn't furiously difficult, end result being I spent a lot of time on the Net.

Boss realises he's recruited poorly and vastly overestimated the task, and tries to stitch me up to cover his fuckup. Starts by giving me a warning for reading Viz at my desk as I ate my lunch (true!!), then it's disciplinary meetings but with no 3rd party observers, and he writes up the minutes which don't accurately reflect the meeting, as you'd expect. I think I'm getting stitched here and get the Union involved, who weigh in heavy (thanks Paul Matt et al).

Cut a long story short, he calls me into his office at 17:15, to tell me I'm going home suspended on full pay. The Union shuts up shop at 17:00, this is no coincidence. The crime is 'misuse of the Internet' which means ebay, Hotmail, and Yahoogroups - a crime more than 50% of the workforce is guilty of at this establishment.

That was the Tuesday.

Wednesday, found a job on Jobserve, called up, they're v enthusiastic as it was a firm I'd worked for before. Can i attend interview in Watford on Thursday? Damn straight I can, no job to go to after all.

Thursday interview, goes swimmingly, can I be on site Friday 10am?

Yeah alright then, I can do that. Where? Swindon? Go on then.

Sunday, I write my resignation letter to the aforementioned Civil Shithole and start a contract with a 50% pay rise. The one after that doubled again, and I've since settled back into permanent roles with an increase in salary of 128% over November 2003, much better people to work with, and no arsehole boss.

So in closing - Dave, from Sunderland, at a Civil Service place in the East Midlands, who lives in Crewe - you're a fucking arsehole, mate. :)

Apols for length but damn I feel better.
(Thu 23rd Feb 2006, 14:14, More)

» Scary Neighbours

the ben....
you're a homophobic halfwit.
(Mon 29th Aug 2005, 13:58, More)

» The Onosecond

Before all this electronic tomfoolery
Not a text, as this predates email & mobiles (it was circa 1992), but a comment to a girl I was going out with at the time, as we strolled down Oxford Street after a gig.

"You know, I think you're the ugliest girl I've ever been out with."

Ah....oops. She didn't shag me that night & unsuprisingly the relationship fell to pieces. Ho hum. (It was going nowhere fast anyway.)

S.
(Sun 29th May 2005, 17:03, More)

» Sacked

c/f Captain Haddock & learning from jerks
Forgot to mention: despite the job spec being 9-5, he expected 8:30 - 5:30, earlier if poss, because that's when he was in. Cunt.

(On the bright side, he doesn't show up in 192.com any more, so with a bit of luck he's wormfood.)

These days I go round the office and tell people to fuck off home if they're still in at six pm. "It's only a fucking job, come back tomorrow and finish it then! Besides, you're no good to me (as your boss) shagged out, psychologically damaged by stress etc etc so piss off home and spend some time with the kids! I'll see you at 9 am tomorrow!"

My team loves me. :)
(Thu 23rd Feb 2006, 15:15, More)