Cut the crap

I got to work and had a sit down for a bit while the managers weren’t around. One of the new fish came over and says "you don’t look happy" then proceeded to tell me a story against my will.

"We were up drinking til 4 last night then I said I’d get up at 9 but I didn’t get up til 9.45 so I said I only have 15 minutes and I had t’ get milk for my breakfast. So I jumped in t’ showah and then I went t’ shop t’ get milk. Then I got back and realised I didn’t get bread! and cheese and ham! from t’ shop so I could only have my cereal. So I didn’t have a bowl but I found one with a candle in it. So I washed that one out and had my coco pops. But I had t’ eat them with a fork cause I had no spoooon. But that tasted like bath water so I didn’t eat them and had a fry instead. I’ll be getting fat now."

That was the shittest story told in the shittest way I’ve heard in quite a while. If you thought I didn’t look happy before I’m close to topping myself now. I didn’t say anything and he moved on eventually. Ah he’s alright though, he’s just from Leeds and has an accent kind of like some oul one from Coronation Street, not sure if he can’t pronounce his R’s or he chooses not to but it just makes him sound a bit special. I do a great impression, you gotta hear it.

I got moved up to the kitchen to help out for a few hours. I had to peel a load of carrots. A lot of them were mush, it was fairly rank, but about half of them were passable. I’d peel a load, throw the peels in the bin, then chop them up and throw them in a pot. Then peel a load more, throw the peels in the bin, chop them up and put them in the pot. After a while this got fairly boring and my concentration started drifting. Peel, peel, peel, throw in the bin. Chop, chop, chop, throw in pot. Chop, chop, chop, throw in pot. Chop, chop, chop, throw in the bin. Chop, chop, chop, throw in the bin. This must have continued for a while cause I looked into the bin and there was quite a few freshly chopped carrots in there.

Then the down and out managers came into the kitchen in their black raincoats. The way they walked into the big wide kitchen from a dark doorway in the corner made me think of two people walking on stage in a depressing Irish play. They informed us that the battery was dead on their car so they couldn’t drive to the shop to get whatever essential things we needed that they should have gotten ages ago. She couldn’t believe it.

"I just can’t believe it" she said more than enough times.
He saw me cutting carrots.
"Watch you don’t cut yourself there young Neil. (Pause) I wish you would cut me instead" (the audience would of laughed at this point.) "Someone up there hates us I tell you; someone up there bloody hates us."
"Yeah" said the chef, "the main man" (hahahaha.)
"If I see him I’ll fucking kill him" (hahaha)
"I just can’t believe it" (They walk off stage in their raincoats. Scene ends with the knife coming down on the ends of two sorry looking carrots.)