There's nothing worse than having to deal with the aftermath of an incident, when you weren't aware of the incident taking place and having to explain yourself to punters. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does it makes you think that you weren't doing your job well enough. At least I have a reasonable excuse for not hearing the incident; I was on shift with
With everything locked up, albeit ten minutes later due to Bryan's incessant ramblings, I decided to walk around with him to make sure he spoke to people in the correct manner and that he was settling into the job. Unfortunately, when he spoke to the occupants of a tent, he wasn't introducing himself. When I corrected him, he made a vague attempt at a joke about it and no matter what I said; he couldn't understand why he had to introduce himself to them when he spoke to the occupants of a noisy tent. It was because of this, that I had to walk around with him for the duration of the shift.
The whole evening passed by without having to speak to anyone more than once. There was no rioting going on, which we were aware of, bearing in mind that no matter whereabouts you are on the site, you will hear someone coughing, let alone having a full-scale domestic. So it came as a bit of a surprise when a small male with a mullet haircut (I think that this was more surprising than anything else) and very thick glasses, which made his eyes appear to be huge, approached us outside the office within the last hour of the shift.
"Do you have a postbox?" he asked.
"Yes, just around the front." I replied.
A few minutes later, he reappeared still clutching his hand-written note to Alex. When he asked for a postbox (as you and I would assume would be a run-of-the-mill Royal Mail postbox) he was actually looking for a letterbox at reception. When he couldn't find one, he returned and voiced his complaint to us. Naturally we were both concerned, as we hadn't heard anything. Had I been on my own last night, I am pretty certain I would have heard something. After Mr. Mullet had left, I read his letter to Alex. After trying to read his illegible note and trying to ascertain what had happened, things started to fall into place in my mind.
After we had cleaned up one amenities block, a female went in to use the facilities. Normally, no matter what time of the morning they usually say hello or something not entirely dissimilar. This woman said nothing. As we walked to the second amenities block, I heard a vehicle engine starting up and as I scanned the park, I noticed a white estate car driving around the park. Bearing in mind this was at around
We continued to tidy up the amenities block and moved onto the third one. I noticed a male and his young daughter packing up their tent, bearing in mind there was still an hour to go before the gates opened, so we went to have a word with him. He came across as very arrogant and facetious. As soon as we were out of his line of sight, but we could see him quite clearly from our vantage point, he drove down to the gate. I pointed out to
As we were checking the female toilets, a male stood outside and shouted into us. Now, I had noticed this male not ten minutes previously running to the toilet and back to his motorhome (which isn't unusual, as the sunrise is very early and consequently it brightens early too so people think that it's later than it actually is.) He told us that he had to start a challenge at
Now, you'll have noticed this in your everyday lives and it was certainly very evident last night, the "snowball effect" isn't something I enjoy before
After receiving the letter from Mr. Mullet, who had very helpfully noted down the vehicle registration number in his letter, we decided to have a walk around to see if we could find it. I knew in the back of my mind that the angry estate-car driver was one of the spokes in the riot. We walked around and I mentioned, in passing, to
As we approached the vehicle, I checked to see which tent was theirs and to see when they were leaving. The vehicle was in the car park, with both of the occupants asleep and the engine running. It was now
Bryan walked over to the vehicle, and I stood in front of it (it's a little trick to ensure that the first thing they see when they wake up is the jacket and think they are in more serious trouble), he knocked on the window and the male woke up, turned the engine off and was then asked by Bryan to keep the engine off. He agreed, closed the car door and went back to the land of slumber.
So it was, by all accounts, an eventful night. It's just a shame that because of
Saturday, 31 May 2008
Quiet Riot
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3 comments:
If you're not a fan of UFOs, why not just tell him you'd rather talk about something else?
I do hate it when I feel people are "humouring" me and giving the appearance of listening or being interested in what I'm saying, when they actually couldn't care less.
I'd much rather someone say "Look, can we talk about something else?" as I'd know then.
Trust me, I've tried that and it doesn't work. He just seems to be one of those people who love the sound of their own voice.
The real irony is that he's walking around at night asking people to be quiet, when he is the one making more noise than anyone.
*Grins*
OK, how about this idea instead;
Give him a UFO book as a "gift"... There are tonnes floating (*groan!*) around the charity shops, and that might keep him quiet in the office.
Or, download some of Art Bell's radio shows, assuming he has a mp3 player, as once he's hooked on these, he'll be permanently plugged into them as he does his patrols.
Of course, the latter might have him being even noisier, if he's the sort of person who "shouts" over the top of whatever he listens to through headphones!
;-)
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