Today, whilst My Lovely Wife is watching Desperate bloody Housewives I thought I would tell you a couple of tales of ingenuity –  one quite old and one new.

Pitmen are very ingenious and their ability to improvise is phenomenal.  Most pitmen are not well-educated but as far as intelligence, talent and ability they’re second to none.

Many years ago, I think it was the late ’70s or early ’80s,  the National Coal Board along with many other firms (I think there might have been a law passed) stopped paying their employees wages in cash but instead, everyone was paid into their bank account.  Unbelievably, quite a few miners did not have a bank account and these people were helped by bank employees visiting the pits to give totally unbiased advice on which was the best bank.

This whole thing went seamlessly and was accepted by all parties – particularly the wages department even though some of them lost their jobs.  Mrs Thatcher’s Britain – the old bastard – may she die in severe pain.  Probably.

This new regime did however cause a few problems amongst the workforce.

One guy had always kept thirteen pounds from his wages and “tipped-up” the rest to his missis.  Now however, he had to write a cheque and go to the bank and cash it.  His problem?  He couldn’t spell “thirteen”.  His solution?  Write two cheques – one for ten and the other for three.  Seemples!


Story 2…

MLW’s first husband had two boys with MLW (she was HLW then).  Two well-balanced, lovely lads they are too.  The ex re-married (his secretary/baby-sitter) and fathered two more children with his second wife – again two boys.  These boys appear to be little carbon copies of their elder step-brothers.  The elder (of the younger two) is quite studious and is destined for university any time now.  The younger one (of the younger two) is dyslexic.

When I was a lad at school the unsympathetic, cruel bastard, teachers would have called these poor little fuckers thick and wiped their hands of them.  Nowadays, as we all know,  kids seem to get their arses wiped for them.  Sorry Jake/Annie if you’re reading.

Right then – back to the youngest of the four brothers…

The school refectory at their posh (private) school, sold coca/pepsi-cola at some ridiculous price.  The young entrepreneur saw an opportunity and acted accordingly.  With the aid of his young mum he bought a load of rola-cola cheaply and distributed these cans amongst his pears.  He was very happy – making a few bob.  All his mates were happy – saving a few bob.

The losers were the school.

They eventually realised that the bottom had fallen out of their cola sales and their enquiry eventually revealed the culprit.  They immediately, as would all schools since time immemorial, stopped these shenanigans forthwith.  The short-sighted wankers.  Surely all budding Richard Bransons should be encouraged?

They did have a bit of a re-think and decided the cola scam could carry-on providing the youngster gave all the profits to the school.  He told them to fuck off.  Good for him.



About Stevie B

I retired to the sun in February 2010. I am far from bored but I do need an interest (preferably one that pays).
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