So – to finish my tale…
In my last Blog I’d set the scene. The impromtu waiting-room was near the pit-bottom…
The last thing you expect a half an hour before the end of the day shift (especially on a Friday) is for a boss to catch you relaxing. Friday is fish & chip day in the canteen so you can guess what most “surface” workers have for lunch.
To explain a little bit about “Undermanagers”; they are sort of third in command in the management hierarchy – after the Manager and Deputy Manager. In reality, they are whipping-boys for the Manager and Deputy Manager to vent their wrath on. It used to be quite a lofty position at one time but over the years has become devalued because there are so many of them.
Right then – Friday lunch time and me and my mate are chillin’. We see this light coming towards us but thought no more about it. When the light reached us it was an Undermanager. This wanker was one of these know nothings who thought he knew everything. He was fat for a young fellow, never smiled and was quite unpopular.
He had smoke coming out of his nose and ears and is best described as thoroughly unhappy. He must have been separated from his F & C. We were obviously his first port of call and everybody he encountered was going to receive a jolly good fucking. Metaphorically speaking that is!
“WHAT ARE YOU TWO FUCKERS DOING HERE AT THIS TIME?” he enquired. We explained in a calm and courteous manner (which seemed to anger him further) that we had been working close by and had completed our alloted task. “WELL FUCKING TIDY THIS FUCKING AREA UP AS FUCKING WELL THEN!” he suggested. (The punchline is very close now). At this stage of the preceding he could hardly speak. He was apoplectic. “AND MOVE ALL THESE FUCKING… FUCKING…”. His mind went totally blank and I doubt he knew his own name at this stage. He couldn’t remember the word “SEAT”. “AND MOVE ALL THESE FUCKING… FUCKING.. ARSE THINGS…”.
It was at this time that he realised he’d totally lost it and he needed to move on and bollock somebody else probably more worthy of a bollocking.
After he’d gone we were like the Martians on the Smash advert – rolling around the floor laughing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as angry in my life either before or since – and my dad wasn’t bad when he were having a go.