I’ll continue on with my old time dribble for the moment and you might enjoy an interesting tale that occurred many moons ago.
When I started working in the Accounts section of the State Electricity Commission, we did a multitude of different jobs around the office and became a Jack of All Trades. Customers came to the office to get service and pay accounts (tell that to the kids of today) and when they came to the counter with a query or to arrange supply connection/disconnection, they dealt with a real person who had a range of knowledge and who could generally handle most queries there and then. And none of us had Indian accents either.
The managers in those days were all ex military and ruled like the war hadn’t ended. They were aloof and walked around like they had a rod shoved up their arse and it was a real officers and those in the trenches attitude. These cretins even had their own locked cubicle in the toilets hence they pick up something nasty from the troops.
Our manager was one of these cretins, and even though everyone smoked in the office in those days, for some bizarre reason he used to sneak off to the dunny for a fag and thought we didn’t know.
I digress. I used to relieve at the counter serving the customers with the pleasant and cheery attitude for which I’m famous. This guy fronts up carrying a sports bag and asks to see the accounts manager by name so I presume he knows him. I ask for his name and trot off into Mr Harry Barfoot’s office and tell him that Mr So and So wants an audience.
Well, did the shit hit the fan! He flew out of his chair which toppled over and took off out the back door faster than the Road Runner. That guys name certainly triggered a reaction. Somewhat bemused, I went back to the counter and told the guy that Mr Barfoot wasn’t available. With that, he pulled out a sawn-off shotgun from his bag and laid it on the counter. He was calm and controlled and then he picked up the weapon and said to me that he’d wait on the seat over there for Mr Barfoot to return.
I suppose you expect me to say that my sphincter muscle failed me at this moment but I was surprisingly calm. My initial reaction was that he wanted to kill Mr Barfoot and not me and I was okay with that. I wandered off into the office and said to one of the assistant managers, “There’s a bloke out there with a shotgun that wants a chat with Harry. Do you think we should consult the Customer Service Manual on what’s the required procedure?” Another priceless look moment!
We rang the cops and do you think a SWAT team accompanied by armoured vehicles, helicopters swooped on the place with tear gas and percussion grenades? Not on your Nellie! In rocked a lone, unarmed copper who wandered up to the guy and they had a pleasant chat for a few minutes before he took his gun and they both ambled out of the building.
Of course, we were all very thankful that Mr Barfoot wasn’t leading us into battle in a real war.
Disgruntled? He was downright “upset”.
I hope you guys straightened out his paperwork and fixed his accounts…
The nerve of some businesses!!
He had some guts, We’ve all wanted to do that at some time. I never found out what his problem was.
I’m surprised I haven’t heard that story from you before! A similar thing happened to me when I worked for a solicitor, a very disgruntled client who was awarded several tens of thousands of dollars in a settlement, discovered how much he really got once the legal fees were deducted. Boy, was he pissed off. He at least gave us a chance, he rang first to say he was coming in with his shotgun so we just locked the front door and called the cops!
MM – Stick around. A lot more interesting things have happened in my life that you haven’t heard about. Then again……..
Actually, you reminded me further about that incident. He had rang earlier and said he was coming in with his gun but they didn’t take it seriously and I never heard about it until afterwards. You can imagine what the coroner would have had to say if I’d been shot!
I remember the day at work when they called all the support staff aside and gave us instructions on how to get the big-wigs out of the office in case a gunman was to get past security. Like I’m gonna save someone’s else’s arse before I save my own.
I think I would have headed out the back door like Mr. Barfoot as soon as I saw a shotgun.
AZ – I used to be the fire warden at our place too and I told everyone that if they didn’t know the way out, just follow me because I’d be the first out!
Damn…. fun times!
Thomas – And I thought working in an office was going to be boring! We had a few more beauties while I worked there and might relate later
Well what was THAT all about? Did Mr Barfoot owe him money? Sleep with his wife? I’m glad you didn’t get a big old hole blown into you.
Peggy – As per June’s comment above.
That was customer service, did you ever find out why the guy was gunning for your boss.
June – From memory, I think he was a disgruntled customer. Whether he’d been disconnected for non-payment or something I’m not sure of the details.