Sunday, August 07, 2005

Morons I have known- a weekly rant (2)

I start this by stating that names and details of all morons have been altered, to hide their true identity and protect me from legal rumbustifications, should their social worker have internet access...

The Labourer (s)

During the mid-eighties, I found myself doing drainlaying and concrete work, due to a lack of more gentile positions. The company I worked for started to hire laborer's referred by WINZ (or whatever they were branded as, back then) To this day, I do not know why.

'They call me Wally', stated a cross between Mr Blobby and a compost heap. We took a look at him and thought 'Thought so!'

Wally bumbled through the week, pushing an idiot stick, if he was watched. The next Monday, he arrived complaining of his numerous rugby injuries. He disappeared just after smoko and returned waving a medical certificate. 'Hurt my back at work', he announced, which spelt the end of Walter.

'Sooty' was a shiftless, smelly alcoholic. Back in the sixties, he would have 'worked' for the railways, keeping a shovel or broom from getting lonely. 'Stop/go' man was beyond him, in a way that quantum physics was beyond him. He was one of the few people I have known that could not use a ruler. He did seem to cope with the sports page of the 'Press', as these types do.

His end came when he decided I had a easier job than his, while laying 18 inch diameter concrete pipe.
I used to sit on the previous pipe and guide the next one into the spigot, while it hung from a chain. These pipes weigh about 1/2 a ton each and use a big o-ring to get a watertight seal.
Anyway, after smoko, he jumped into the trench to grab that job. No problem for me, I will go on the crowbar and ram the pipe home. I did say to watch the fingers- immovable objects and irresistible forces, blah, blah,blah.

Then he discovered that holding this bloody great piece of concrete actually called for quite a bit of physical effort to hold in line, so he stuck his fingers in the pipe to get a better grip.

I called 'all clear?' and slammed the pipe home, with all my weight behing the crowbar. You guessed it-two fingers on each hand became one with the pipe and they were going nowhere. Had to pop the join with the loader, to get him out. Exit another.

I suppose once, they found gainful employment on the farm, shoveling shit from one place to another. Or in giving the livestock a smug feeling of superiority.

3 comments:

Fat Freddy said...

Great stories. Can't wait for the movie.

Oswald Bastable said...

I'm just following in the path of 'Bastards I have Met", by Barry Crump!

Lippy said...

Some people really are too stupid to live. Unfortunately, they'll probably live to 103.