Good rave but close shave

Me and Rob were living in my stepfathers house and were skint as usual, there was a big night coming up down the Night Owl in Tenby, Colin Dale was the guest DJ, we had heard him play a few times before and he was wicked it was guaranteed to be a good night everyone was going and that included us, we just had the small problem of finding money to get there, which we always managed somehow. And as luck had it we had a visit from an old friend who was desperate to offload some goods he had acquired.

Simon had moved away years ago somewhere up England way, he used to come back to the village every now and then and would always pop in to see us when he was home, he was a bit of a dodgy character but a nice enough bloke, he wouldn’t rob your gran but he might rob the corner shop or in this case one of his local pubs. He had 2 black bags full of vending machine fags that he was keen to turn into cash, and he knew that Rob and me would be able to help him.

But as I said earlier we were skint, but Simon was desperate to get rid of the fags in bulk, which meant we were able to come to an arrangement that suited us all. We would have the fags off Simon on tick, or buy now pay later as they say in the trade. He didn’t mind waiting a couple of days for the money as long as he got rid of the fags in one go. So it was sorted we now had the means to get to Tenby for the rave well sort of, we still didn’t have any money for transport or tickets or spending money.

Rob had a car at that time an old allegro, it was a bit of a rust bucket but it worked. It didn’t have any MOT or tax and he wasn’t insured to drive it or any other car for that matter, in fact he didn’t have a license to drive and neither did I, but that was a small matter, which we never really cared about. Tenby was about 70 miles away from where we lived so we needed petrol money to get there, we decided to sell a couple of packets of fags locally to get enough petrol money to get us to the nearest motorway services, then at the services Rob would fill the tank up with petrol and then tell the cashier he had forgotten his wallet, and leave a bogus address and his jacket with them, he had done this a few times before and it always worked, in them days they didn’t have CCTV in the garages and the car wasn’t registered to any of us so they would never trace it back to us, so happy days.

So it was all planned Friday had arrived and it was time to set off, we put the 2 black bags full of fags in the boot and off we went, we got to the services and Rob dropped me off in the car park and filled the tank up in the petrol station, it was easier and less suspicious if there was only one person in the car while he did it. And besides I was always nervous about things like that and the cashier would probably see the guilt on my face, and call the police. So I waited in the car park and when he had finished he picked me up and we were away.

Now around the time of the raves down the Night Owl there was a lot of bad publicity going on concerning ravers, although it was a legal rave and held in a night club the police were still suspicious of ravers and drugs, so every now and then they would set up road blocks and perform random stop and searches, and as it happened that is exactly what they were doing as we were heading into Tenby that day.

There was only one main road into Tenby so the police had a good vantage point, we could see traffic building up ahead of us and police vans and motorbikes stopping the cars, there were coppers everywhere they were stopping anybody that looked like ravers and me and Rob stuck out like sore thumbs, Rob was wearing a pair of dungarees and a baseball cap and I had jeans and a T-shirt that read “give us some E Yum Yum.” We came to a halt, and one of the coppers approached us, he told us to turn the engine off and wait in the car until the search team had finished searching the other cars in front of us, and our car would be searched in due course.

There were about 10 cars in front of us full of ravers, and we watched as the police dealt with each car one by one, emptying the people out of the car searching them and then searching the cars, they had sniffer dogs as well, I was shitting myself Rob was quite calm, we had 2 bags full of vending machine fags in the boot and it was obvious if they were from a vending machine that they had been nicked, Rob didn’t have a driving license, tax, insurance or MOT, we were going to be locked up for the night for sure.

We sat in the car watching and waiting for the police to get to us.

“Rob, what are we guna do, what are we guna say?”

“Don’t worry about it Carl, I’ll do all the talking, you just keep your mouth shut, don’t say a word.”

“What about the fags? they can tell they’re from a vending machine because it says on them, and you haven’t got a license, this car is not even supposed to be on the road”

“They can’t prove they are stolen, and I will give them Kevin’s name and address, and just have to produce his documents next week in the police station, don’t panic and don’t look all guilty”

They had finished searching the car in front of us and we were next, but just as the policeman was approaching us we could hear his radio going off, he stopped and was speaking into his radio, then he turned around and spoke to the search team, and then back into his radio. He then walked up to us and Robert wound his window down.

“It’s your lucky day boys,” he said to Rob. “We have been called out to an incident in Saundersfoot, so you’re free to go.”

We didn’t hang around 1 minute longer than necessary Rob started the engine and we sped off to the Night Owl. We sold half of the fags in the car park outside before we got in, Colin Dale was amazing we had a brilliant night and finished off down Saundersfoot beach, sold all the fags and was back home the next day to pay Simon his share.

Essex lion gone

the real reason why the Essex lion disappeared. The Gruffalo scared him off !

Neath workies

One of the best nights out in the South Wales valleys (Click on image to enlarge)

Cowboy builders flyer

Dai the potcher, he is as honest as the day is long

Square hole in honey hoop

I bought a box of Honey Hoops from Morrisions, and noticed that one of the hoops had a square hole in the middle, so I wrote a letter to Morrisons to see if they could explain why my hoop had a square hole. And they wrote me a nice letter back. Here is my letter below and the reply I received.

My letter:

Dear Sir/Madam

Last week I purchased a box of Morrisons Honey Hoops for my son, from one of your stores in Swansea. I usually buy Kellogs Honey Loops, but with money being tight I thought I would give the Morrisons Honey Hoops a go because they are much cheaper and look just like them to me.

My son didn’t want me to buy them because he thought that they would not be the same, and would taste much different, but I convinced him to give them a go. I made him a bowl full when we got home and he sat down to eat them, he only ate about 2 spoon full’s, when he called me over to have a look at what he had found in the bowl.

It was a round honey hoop. But with a square hole in the middle (I have enclosed the hoop for your examination) and that is when he told me that they were not real and he refused to eat them.

I have been trying to convince him that they are just like Kellogs Honey Loops, but he refuses to believe me, he doesn’t understand how there can be a square hole in the middle of a round hoop. I have tried to explain to him and I know this sounds silly, but I don’t know how it could happen either, so I am finding it hard to think of a reason why the hole in the middle is not round.

We poured a few hand full’s of the box onto the table and checked to see if there were any other hoops with square holes in but all the others were fine. He said that they tasted the same as the Kellogs ones but he wants me to find out how one of the holes was square.

My son even made me check on the Internet to see if we could find if Aunty Mable knew how they are made, but we couldn’t find anything. So I told him I would write to you and ask you how the honey hoops are made, and then maybe I could explain to him how some hoops might have square holes in the middle.

I am sure if I had a good explanation, he would eat them.

Thank you for your time

First reply from Morrisons:

Dear Sir

Thank you for contacting us. I was most concerned to learn of the problems you have experienced with your recent purchase of Honey hoops Cereal. Please accept my apologies for this.

We are keen to understand why this product has not met the required standards, and therefore will be carrying out a full investigation with our supplier; this may take up to 28 days. This timeframe will allow our supplier time to thoroughly investigate your complaint and provide a written report. We will also be monitoring whether we have had any other complaints concerning this product and the reasons for these complaints. It will also allow us to consider the possibility of changing our supplier based on the feedback we receive.

Once our investigations are complete I will of course contact you again.

Thank you for your anticipated patience in this matter

Your sincerely

Morrisons Customer Service Team.

Second reply:

Dear Sir

Further to my previous letter I have now received a report from our supplier and enclose a copy of this for your information.

Please be assured that the feedback you have provided has been extremely valuable to us and our supplier, and hopefully will help prevent a reoccurrence of this problem happening again.

I would like to apologise once again and thank you for bringing this matter to our attention, and I hope you will accept the enclosed vouchers as a gesture of goodwill and token of our regret for any inconvenience caused.

Despite this unfortunate incident I do hope you will continue shopping with us in the future.

Yours sincerely

Morrisons Customer Service Team.

The report:

I write in response to your letter of July 16^th reference the above

The item you sent was in fact crumbled in the post and all we received was crumbs from the ingredients of Honey Hoops (see attached photo).

The production of Honey Hoops involves the careful blending together of the finest ingredients and pre-set amounts to our exclusive recipe. As manufacture takes place at the rate of approximately one packet per second, by necessity all our processes are highly mechanised. Such automation, designed to make and package our breakfast cereals untouched by the human hand.

Without the Best Before date and details from the pack I am unable to check the batch for similar complaints but I have checked our records over the last four years and can confirm there are no other issues of this nature.

We therefore ask you to consider removing the charge for this notification

Kind regards

Consumer Service Advisor.

The gift vouchers were for £3 which was good of them, but I do feel a little guilty for putting the supplier through so much trouble. And I would have liked to have seen the picture of the crushed hoops, but they didn’t send that on to me.

Pictures

My son made a bird box in school, but the birds are staying away, so I thought I would make it a bit more appealing to the modern birds.

the pound note

There was a bench opposite the corner shop that we all used to sit on, it was at the bottom of the street, I only lived 6 houses up from the start of the street so it was good for me, I could look out the window to see if anybody was there before I decided to go out, or if there was somebody I didn’t like on the bench I wouldn’t go out.

I was 12 years old, and sitting on the bench, nobody was out, I was waiting for one of the boys or any of the girls to come out, sooner or later somebody would turn up.

I could see Mrs Williams from number 22 walking down the street, I watched her walking towards the shop, but just as she was about to go in she stopped and looked down at the floor by the drain, she bent down and picked something up. From where I was sitting I could see what it was she picked up. It was a pound note.

She walked into the shop waving it about and I could see her talking to the women behind the counter pointing at the drain, and giving them the pound note.

I was gutted that I didn’t spot it before Mrs Williams did, I wouldn’t have handed it in. I would have spent it on sweets and said nothing.

I watched as Mrs Williams left the shop and then I had an idea.

I walked over to the drain where she found the money, and I started looking around as if I had lost something, but I needed to get the attention of the women working behind the counter. So I started crying as I was looking around the floor. One of the women came out and asked me what was wrong.

“I have lost my money, my mother is guna kill me”

“It’s ok love, don’t worry, how much have you lost”

“ A pound”

“Come inside, somebody has just handed some money in”

And she handed me the pound note, I said thank you, wiped my tears away, and then waited a reasonable amount of time before I could leave without it looking suspicious.

I left and spent the money in a shop up the road

I often see the woman that was working behind the counter around the village, as you do when you live in the valleys, and she always recalls the story of the time I was crying outside the shop looking for my money. And I never had the heart to tell her the truth.

Marvellous at Pontins

I was working in a Pontins holiday camp, as a waiter. I had been there for 6 months of a 10-month contract. I will probably write another story, on how I ended up working at Pontins, but for now this can be like a sub story of it.

There were 8 waiters in total, and each of us would serve 24 people or guests as we called them. It was a big dining room, with a salad bar at one end, and a pianist at the other end. Each waiter had a small station, where all the cutlery plates, condiments and whatever other tools we needed to use quickly and often.

The guests would come in two parts. Monday to Friday, and Friday to Monday. The Monday guests would arrive in time for lunch at 12:30 and leave after breakfast on a Friday morning. And then there would be a new stream of guest, who would arrive late on a Friday afternoon and their first meal would be the evening meal at 7 o’clock. And they would leave after breakfast on a Monday morning.

Now because there were no guests on a Friday afternoon, that meant we had some free time to ourselves, so a few of us waiters and most of the kitchen staff used to catch a bus down to the town and have a few drinks, in the Black Dog. We would be there just after open tap and be back to work and get back about 5oclock in time to prepare for the guests at 7. We weren’t supposed to drink but we were on holiday sort off.

We would get merry but not to drunk, well except in the case of Graham who would get absolutely blotto, but still be able to serve the guests, but in the end though he did get the sack for being drunk and falling all over the place.

Anyway one particular Friday after a few beers down the Black Dog, I was feeling a bit drunk and a bit merry, when I got back. The guests arrived for the evening meal, and I was in high spirits, they were a nice bunch of people I had a laugh with them and they all liked me, I kept saying marvellous all the time, and they had caught onto it, I didn’t know I was saying it until they pointed it out.

“ Would you like fish or braised beef?”

“Braised beef please”

“Marvellous.”

“Tea or coffee sir?”

“Tea please.”

“Marvellous.”

And that’s how it went on throughout the meal, a few times one of them would say marvellous back to me, I was bouncy and had some good banter with them all, they liked me and that was always good for tips.

After the meal I had cleared up and went to my room, a few of the kitchen porters called over for a few drinks, we played cards, drunk cider, listened to music and finished the night off.

The next day I had a sore head when I woke up, I wasn’t feeling to good at all, but I had to work, breakfast was at 8, and I had to start at 7:30.

For that meal I stood by my station most of the time, I didn’t really talk to any of the guests, I just did what I needed to do I wasn’t bouncing about like the night before and I wasn’t really in a chatty mood, the guests were pretty quiet too which was good, a few of them did call me over a few times, to ask me for more milk, or an extra piece of toast, but nothing to demanding.

I was glad to see them leave.

I cleaned up the tables as quick as I could, all I was thinking about was going back to bed for a couple of hours, as I was taking the table cloths off one of the tables I noticed a piece of cardboard underneath it about the size of a licence plate, and written on it with a black marker was the word “Marvellous” and underneath every other table cloth there was a card with the same word written on it “Marvellous” I called over to the head waiter to show him, he said he got to talking to some of them last night and they thought I was funny and how I kept saying marvellous all the time. So they had written on the cards and hid them under the tablecloth, and when I said the word marvellous, they were all going to lift the cards up in the air.

But I didn’t say it once, I wasn’t really feeling marvellous, or in a very marvellous mood, I was hung over and wanted to get back to bed.

The pattern on the wall

Once upon a time in a pattern on a wall

There grew a room the size of a hall

The pattern expanded and became a town

But the king who ruled it had lost his crown

His wife the queen was very sad

She hated this pattern that drove the king mad

So she summoned a jester to make the king laugh

But he only knew one paragraph

The queen told the jester that he was a hoax

And sent him away to learn some more jokes

He came back the next day with a new routine

The king roared with laughter, and so did the queen

But the king was still sad without his crown

And eventually he had a mental breakdown

The jester was banished, and the queen became sick

And now the pattern is covered with brick.

Confessions The Ford Cortina Exhaust

I was living on my own and was on the dole so didn’t have much money, the house I was living in was my step fathers, he had moved out with his girlfriend, and would come back every now and then when they had an argument. He had a Ford Cortina in the back garden that he was doing up slowly. He never really did anything with it, he used to say that he would fix it up and get it on the road one day, but I knew that it was just a piece of junk that was going to rust in the garden.

My mate Mark had a Ford Cortina as well, it was a bit of a rust bucket, his exhaust had fallen off one day while he was driving over a cattle grid, so he asked me if I would sell him the exhaust from the car in my garden, I was skint and I thought why not, my step father wasn’t around and he would probably never notice. So I sold it to him for £25 as long as he removed it himself. And that was that. I had £25 and he had an exhaust that worked. We were both happy.

A couple of weeks later my stepfather had moved back into the house after an argument with his girlfriend, he only ever used to stay a few days until she calmed down and then he be back with her, but this time it looked like he was staying for a while, I didn’t mind because it meant that there would be plenty of food in the house, I would just have to put up with him nagging me about getting a job.

I was out with the boys one day, and I had heard that my stepfather had been fighting with a guy in the back lane, there was hell of a commotion apparently. I went home to see if everything was ok. When I got home he was sitting in the living room, he had a few marks on the side of his face and he was in a temper.

I asked him what had happened, he told me that Phil Davies, the guy living up the road had stolen the exhaust off the Cortina, and he had knocked on his door, but Phil was denying it all, and they ended up fighting in the lane.

He said “I know it was that bastard because he’s got a Cortina and asked me 2 weeks ago if I wanted to sell mine for parts”

I didn’t say anything, I wanted to tell him that I sold it to Mark, but it wasn’t the right time to bring it up. He never spoke to Phil again and still doesn’t.

So there we are that is my confession, I sold the exhaust it wasn’t Phil who pinched it. So sorry about that Phil.