Over the Christmas break I have been working in retail. Today my Hungarian boss asked me to pick up something from the printer. When I reached the office, I found a piece of paper with the words 'FAULTY STAFF' blazened across it.
(Had I been that bad at exchanging damaged goods for a customer? Oh no!)
Mortally wounded, I took the print out to him. It was only after some bemused taking the piss (myself and my co-worker held the sign to our chests and strutted our shortcomings like the faulty staff we are), that he realised his severely unsound (badoom ch!) mistake.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment