No sleep through the night as such, feeling tired and weak.
0500hrs: WC, started laptop, WC, made a cuppa and pot of porridge (added a spot of honey, ah the good life), WC.
Did graphics for this blog, WC, Made another cuppa, Asda delivery arrived 0630 hrs. WC.
Now I can’t get into me Emails? What next… oh, it’s come up now.
I posted blog posts and started writing and graphics for me next one.
Several visits to the WC.
Got meself sorted a bit, still not feeling very great, but managed to get meself around to the doctors to pick up me extra prescriptions. Didn’t actually get there though… I remembered it was Wednesday and not Thursday, the day I was to pick up the prescription.
Wearily back to the hovel.
Visit to the WC.
Saw a policeman on foot on the street when I got back – yes an actual policeman (Well, a CPO) on our street, never been known for ages.
Couldn’t muster up any energy today. Angina playing up too, I feel so tired.
No foodstuff were purchased from Lidl
But I’m eating, boy am I eating. Made some instant mash with onions, added cheese granules, some cooked ham, seaweed, peas, and bread. Followed by two suckers and an ice-cream.
Followed later as I lay there praying for sleep – by bags of Marmite crisps and walnuts.
Visit to the WC.
Drained, I lay there still waiting for sleep, as I listened to the radio, read me book, watched a DVD… oh oh and several visits to the porcelain.
Late December 1963: This incident took place while I as working at Tesco on Goosegate, Hockley in Nottingham. (The only Tesco in Nottingham at the time).
I was manager of the Greengrocery Section at the time. It was 0800hrs and I was setting out the display, as I noticed this tramp-like chap with a heavy sack under his arm, and the biggest blotchy nose I’ve ever seen walk into the store and he said to me, in a refined sort of voice “Good Morning young man” and proceeded down the aisle to the tinned meats sections shelves.
As I was looking at him, a mate (Butchers cutter Ray Miles and old school chum) was filling the meat fridge opposite where the chap was, and we acknowledged each other. At that moment the big-nosed chappy opened the heavy sack, and scooped all the Fray Bentos corned beef tins into it – slung it over his shoulder, and proceeded to walk out of the store.
I jumped down from the trolley of potato sacks I was putting on the display as he passed me, and said; “Excuse me Sir…”
“Fair enough governor, you’ve got me!” Then handed me the sack, and he actually led me into the back and upstairs.
The manager joined us, and the police were called.
They arrived through the back loading door within 10 minutes, and you should have seen the beaming smiles on their faces when they saw the chap and greeted him with; “Hallo Arthur, how the devil have you been keeping son?”
One of the policemen handed out his fags to the other officer and ‘Arthur’, and they chatted merrily away for an hour or so. Eventually they arrested him, and he was collected by another officer who came to fetch him, and another old-time gossip session took place between they all, with laughter, back slapping etc.
After he’s been taken away, the remaining plain clothes officer told us that it was near Christmas, so Arthur always got himself arrested so he could be fed and looked after over the holidays.
The Shoplifting Lemon Jacketed Vixen
1964: I had been promoted to the grand title of ‘Trainee Assistant Manager’. The store manager’s name was Mr Wynn, and we had a new Assistant Manager, Mr Goodhead.
I was helping out on the tills, and unbeknown to me, Mr Goodhead and a store detective had been following this giant of a woman, wearing a bright ‘lemon’ jacket and had been seen hiding tinned products in her own shopping bag.
The first I knew of this was when Mr Goodhead, tried to stop the woman as she exited the doors, and she swung her bag of canned food around and into the face of Mr Goodhead, knocking him out for the count.
For some reason, she ran not out of the shop, but into it, and a chase ensued with me, Mr Wyn, a woman supervisor (Can’t remember her name) the store detective woman, Ray Miles and several other brave staff chasing her around the gondolas and shelves for a few minutes (Even at the time I thought this is a bit like a Keystone Cops film).
Then she ‘Lemon’ woman ran into the back of the store, up the stairs and into the warehouse, where she was eventually wrestled to the floor. Several cuts and bruises were suffered by the staff in this scrap, ‘Lemon was strong woman.
As we waited for the police to arrive in the warehouse, a rather weather-beaten Mr Goodhead appeared, with a hell of a lump of his forehead, along with a trickle of blood from his ear-hole.
Two women PCs arrived, and that set of the ‘Lemon’ again. It took the PCs and three of us to calm her down again.
Another police car arrived, and we managed to get her into the back of the Panda, not easy trying to carry 16 stone of unwilling ‘Lemon’ to a car, I can tell you.
As the car drew off up the back road with ‘Lemon’ ensconced in it, it was amusing to see the car swerve and shake about with the springs being tested to their limit.
We counted our injured. Mr Goodhead head injuries, sent to hospital three days off work – Our female supervisor broken nail, bloody lip and pulled hamstring, eight days off work – The Store Detective woman, bloody nose and scratched face – Ray Miles bruised testicles, Inchcock bit fingers and broken glasses.
Eventually we found out that the woman (Lemon) had received 3 months probation and a £20 fine.
Was it worth it I asked?
The Lincolnshire Chase
So there I was, sent to the Lincoln Tesco, as additional help in getting the store sorted in time for reopening after a fire.
Tesco had got Bruce Forsyth and then David Nixon to do a visit to encourage shoppers to attend the reopening.
We only just managed to get everything ready on time, and I worked throughout the night, along with many others.
The opening ceremony went well, Mr Forsyth and Mr Nixon, especially Mr Nixon, ere true gentlemen and remained unflustered as their fans approached them.
After they had both gone, I had hoped to get some sleep in – but the codeword for a shoplifter came over the tannoy, so it was all male staff to the shop floor.
The distinctively dresses Teddyboy doing the shoplifting, skipped past the manager, and had it away on his toes, with me in pursuit.
Eventually I had to give up the chase, I bet he’s not been working all night.
Then it dawned on me… I was lost.
Eventually, after asking for directions repeatedly, I got back to the store, just in time to start my next shift.
It has come to me attention, and that of the NHS Casualty Department staff, that I have been clobbered four times now, by folk driving disabled and Motorbility scooters in the Nottingham area.
The First Attack
The first was on Mansfield Road near the cemetery as I was walking up the hill on my way to town.
He came from behind, knocking me over and spilling my bag of goodies on the floor as he drove over me right leg. It were a decent clout wot I received.
The disabled driver then continued to rant at me, despite my pointing to me hearing aids, and then shot off up the hill. I asked the woman who came over to me, what he was saying. It seemed he was asking if I was alright, but got angry when I couldn’t hear what he was saying?
Anyway, I gorrup with the lady’s assistance, dusted missen down, thanked the lady, and carried on me walk into town. Unfortunately I took a turn for the worse, and felt very dizzy, so called into the NHS Drop-in centre in town, who checked me over and called for an ambulance. At the hospital, the grim faced doctor said he could find nothing wrong with me, and churlishly sent me on me way.
The Second Attack
Shopping in Victoria centre, I as hobbling along nicely and received a blow from behind as the mobility scooter knocked into me.
I called out immediately to the driver, and heard his description of certain male bodily parts in answer.
The Third Attack
In Derby’s Eagle Centre. I was stood still, bent down sorting out the things in me shopping bag, walking stick on me arm.
Next thing me nose is touching the floor, as the gentleman in a Motorbility scooter knocked me over from behind, breaking me walking stick as he just carried on over it, and disappeared!
The Fourth Attack
This took place in the Queens Medical hospital a few weeks ago.
I’d just arrived at the haematology dept for me weekly INR Warfarin level tests, and was near the ticket issue machine. A lady on a Motorbility scooter pulled up beside me. I asked her if she needed a ticket. She just replied “No I don’t”.
So I took one for myself, and moved over to the second row of seats, and was stood by the end of them, getting my paperwork out ready, and as propelled across the seats as she drove into them, and she carried on trying to accelerate for a while, I could feel the shuddering.
The staff in treatment room heard the commotion and came out as she had finally managed to free her scooter from me and the chairs, and drove off! The staff did an accident report for me. I went in for me tests, and they all had a good laugh about it.
I’d like to request you send me some limpet mines at a good price, so that next time I can try to disable the offending scooter long enough for me to… well..
I’ve just watched a DVD that me brother-in-law copied off the telly for me. About disability scooters, and the drivers not having to take a test or practise on them before going out on the roads to mangle Inchcock.
And it said the dangerous drivers of these mechanic accidents waiting to happen, do not have to have insurance either?
I was just about to ring Brother in law Pete, and he rang me. Hope to meet him tomorrow after the medical treatment. Must ask him to take some photo’s.
Had a nosh of microwave chips, Krakowski and seaweed, and a bag of Quavers, followed by two orange lollies. (How’s that for two fingers to the ‘Eat Properly brigade?)
I watched the DVD of Dick Emery’s film; “Oh you are awful!” So politically incorrect, but hilarious!
The nights limited amount of sleep was again nightmare ridden, but again, I can remember nothing of them, other than they were scary and worrying. Each time I got up to relief myself (At least ten times!) I’d remember a bit of them and tell myself to remember so as to report here on me blog… but no.
I’m hoping I’ll be able to get to the hospital tomorrow, without my minimal bladder being tested, crossed fingers.
Tuesday 5th August:
Up at 0500 hrs, laptop on to start this tosh, cuppa and took medications.
0600 hrs, failed to get on wordpress.com, getting a part view of the screen that’s all. Tried email and other sites, they seem okay. Seems they are having technical troubles of some sort? Hope it gets sorted for when I get back from the hospital, otherwise I might crack-up altogether if I can’t blog… oh dear!
Oh, it’s alright now? Good!
Hello, I’ve lost me top options now… might be my old laptop? Still I managed to post me latest sad effort. Must get on with creating graphics for me next one (Head down, concentration mode engages, passes wind, visits the WC…)
BT internet returned as I was giving up, to get things ready for QMC.
Set off, called at doctors to request an extra prescription for painkillers and emolument cream, then caught bus to town, then bus to hospital.
Warfarin tests first, then on to Renal for results. Seems pyelonephritis infection, they said normally they would prescribe antibiotics, but due to the amount of medications I’m on, they made appointment for me to see my GP to talk things through first. Thursday at 0915hrs.
Feeling tired and drained for some reason.
I Caught bus to Bulwell to look in the cheapo shop, nowt in worth while though.
Rang brother in law Pete, and he’s had his lamp delivered, so would meet me at the hovel to collect the black bags for me.
Got home at 1346 hrs, internet connection not to bad. So I again tried to register to vote on the gov.com site. It’s still not letting me.
Pete arrived about 1420hrs. Good chinwag and he collected the bags.
When Pete went, I thought it best if I tried to get my head down, as I was still feeling drained. No such luck. Tried reading me book without success, then I watched three DVD’s. Eventually drifting off late on, while I was in the middle of watching a Steven Seagal film.
This list was compiled by Juan Inchcock Chambers, Britain’s answer to Diphtheria and decrepit unpaid, overweight chronically sick and ancient reporter for this Blog, for your perusal and enjoyment. Should you find this article enjoyable, readable, interesting or entertaining and thought provoking; Please contact Juan at The Nottingham Savoy Hotel, the Basement, between the fifth and sixth Refuse Collection Bin on the right, next to the Big Issue satchels. You can contact him during the hours of darkness nesting in the Kellogg’s Corn Flake box there.
Here are some quotes from people made during the 1950/60’s
(1) “I’ll tell you one thing, if things keep going this way, its’ going to be impossible to buy a week’s groceries for less than £10 I can tell yer”
(2) “Have you seen the new cars coming out next year? It won’t be long before they start charging over £100 for em.”
(3) “If cigarettes keep going up in price, I’m going to quit. 2/- (10p) a pack, this is ridiculous.”
(4) “Did you hear the post office is thinking about charging a 6d (2 .5p) just to mail a letter?”
(5) “The Government wants to get its hands on everything. Pretty soon it’s going to be impossible to run a family business or farm.”
(6) “When I first started driving, who would have thought petrol would someday cost 2/- (10p) a gallon. Guess we’d be better off leaving the car in the garage.”
(7) “I never thought I’d see the day all our kitchen appliances would be electric. They are even making electric typewriters nowadays.”
(8) “Also, their music drives me wild. This ‘Rock Around The Clock’ thing is nothing but racket.”
(9) “I’m afraid to send my kids to the movies any more. Ever since they let Clark Gable get by with saying ‘damn’ in ‘Gone With The Wind,’ it seems every movie has a ‘hell’ or damn’ in it nowadays.”
(10) “Also, it won’t be long until couples are sleeping in the same bed in the movies. What is this world coming to?”
(11) “Marilyn Monroe is now showing her bra and panties, so apparently there are no standards left any more.”
(12) “Soon you won’t be able to buy a decent 6p (2.5p) cigar.”
(13) “I read the other day where some scientist thinks it’s possible to put a man on the moon by the end of of the century. They even have some fellows they call astronauts preparing for it down in Texas yer know… really I’m not joking”
(14) “Did you see where that Chelsea football player just signed a contract for £56 a week, just to play football? It wouldn’t surprise me if someday they’ll be making more than the Prime Minister.”
(15) “Kids today are impossible. Those duck tail haircuts make it impossible to stay groomed. Next thing you know, boys will be wearing their hair as long as the girls.”
(16) “1/- (5d) for a loaf of bread? Christ, where will it end?”
(17) “It’s too bad things are so tough nowadays. I see where some married women might have to work to make ends meet.”
(18) “It won’t be long before young couples are going to have to hire someone to watch their kids so they can both work.”
(19) “Marriage doesn’t mean a thing any more; those Hollywood stars seem to be getting divorced at the drop of a hat.”
(20) ” I’ll tell you one thing. If my son ever talks back to me, he won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
(21) “Did you know the new Vicar is allowing women to wear slacks to their services?”
(22) “Next thing you know is, the government will start paying us not to grow crops.”
(23) “I’m just afraid that new Volkswagen car is going to open the door to a whole lot of foreign business.”
(24) “The picture houses are now charging 1/- (5p) entry fee, this will mean the end of the industry I can tell you.”
(25) “Why in the world would you want to send your daughter to college? Isn’t she going to get married? It would be different if she could be a doctor or a lawyer.”
(26) “I advised my children to smoke Craven ‘A’ cigarettes, they are better for the throat you know.”
(27) “There is no fun in going to Skegness or Mablethorpe any more for a weekend. It costs nearly £2 a night to stay in some of the Nottingham Hotels now. And even the lodging houses are charging well over 3/6 (17.5p) a night!”
(28) “Now they are changing the meters (Gas/Electricity) to take shillings now (5p) instead of one penny!”
(29) “AA and RAC patrols on the ‘A’ roads will always be there for you”
(30) “If a few idiots want to risk their necks flying across the country that’s fine, but nothing will ever replace trains.”
(31) “I don’t know about you but if Wimpy’s raise the price of coffee to 3p (1.4p), I’ll just have to drink mine at home.”
(32) “If they think I’ll pay 1/6d (7.5p) for a haircut, forget it. I’ll have the wife learn to cut hair.”
(33) “We won’t be going out much any more. Our baby sitter informed us she wants 6p (2.5p) an hour. Kids think money grows on trees.”
(34) “Cars which dim their lights by sensors, automatic transmissions, and who knows what else? Pretty soon they will drive themselves.”
35) “After this Profumo affair, our Members of Parliament will become more reliable I’m sure!”
36) ” When you grow up lad, all of the wars will have finished, folks have got to learn from history you see, it’s inevitable son.”
Up after another nasty nightmare filled night at about 0430hrs.
Morrison’s delivery expected this morning twixt 0700 and 0800hrs.
BT internet playing up again.
Made cuppa, took medications.
Searched for the DVD I ordered three weeks ago from HMV, and collected last Friday. ‘The Big Job’. Sid James, Dick Emery, Jim Dale, a good old comedy. Tried to watch it last night, but HMV had left the security thingy on it, so I wanted to put in bag now, so I could return it and get em to remove it. But couldn’t find it – Tsk!
BT internet connection crap, now gone all together (0525hrs)
Got laundry things ready for after delivery of nosh.
BT back on-line 0550 hrs. Nice of em innit?
BT back OFF-LINE 0556 hrs. Reset box again… Gits!
BT back on-line 0600 hrs.
BT back OFF-LINE 0601 hrs.
BT back on-line 0604 hrs.
I lost connection between 0550hrs and 0620 hrs about eight/nine times! Grrrr, had to keep resetting or rebooting. Gave up.
Anyone else on BT, How’s your connection today?
Morrison’s delivered at 0734 hrs. Put the stuff away. (Well, some of it).
0800 hrs, ablutions and got launderette togs ready, so much to take I could hardly carry em.
On the way to the launderette, an amoeba belted passed me on a pushbike un frit me half to death, almost hit me. I called out, and soon learnt he was an experienced driver by the finger sign he gave me as he disappeared into the distance, bless him!
At the launderette, I had a good laugh with the gal there, and we tried to do a crossword. Cheered me up that did.
Back to the hovel, put togs away (Well, dropped the bags upstairs), and did another search for the DVD – and wallah; I found it. Where you might ask… er… in the bath actually, don’t ask why it was there, I don’t know.
Took an apple and pack of seaweed and other healthy food to eat on me walk into town. Must remember to take the DVD back to be opened.
Called on me way, to tell… oh I forget her name now, the laundry gal that I’d found the DVD. She did laugh… bless her.
Hobbling into town, halfway up the hill on Mansfield Road near the cemetery, blow me if someone else didn’t belt passed me on a bike on the pavement, nearly knocking me over. I’m getting fed up with these near misses from bikers.
Went into Tesco and got me Krakowska meat. Then limped into the slab square, took a photo of the disgusting children’s fountain and paddling pool. Dumped at the end of it, were beer cans and bottles, cigarette ends, sweet wrappers, crisp packets etc.
Proceeded, (I could have written carried on to, or Then, but I like typing Proceeded) along to the bank to extract some money and get me balance (Oh dear me).
Then took a walk to Aldi, and got some of their excellent Lemon cheesecakes and Porridge pots (what Lidl have stopped selling).
Feet and knees on bad shape now, so wandered to the bus stop, and caught one back to Beirut… I mean Carrington. As I got off the bus, a bloody motorcyclist this time, nearly hit me, as he drove on the pavement to the chip shop! I bravely took his photo from behind him.
I tottered back to the dump, and made a nice cup of Punjana tea bags. They are very good and strong, and they’re on offer at the moment at Morrison’s too, 49p off.
Started the laptop, and the BT connection was okay, perhaps they think I’m still in town?
1500 hrs BT connection down… Tsk! Back up 1509 hrs.
Started to do graphics for Letters to LOMM 8
Gang of about eight youths swaggering up the centre of the street. Hope they keep moving.
Getting on with graphics.
Yobs lurking outside again, going to go upstairs out of the way.
I’ll post this and try to remember to carry on the next from this time.
Inspired by a letter published in the Daily Telegraph
The E-Mail
Having been bothered with the local yobs on my street, several times, and mugged twice. I’d like to give you an update on my situation.
Having spent the past twenty minutes waiting for someone at Nottingham Sherwood police station to pick up a telephone I have decided to abandon the idea and try e-mailing you instead. Perhaps you would be so kind as to pass this message on to your colleagues in Sherwood by means of smoke signal, carrier pigeon or Ouija board.
As I’m writing this e-mail there are eleven failed medical experiments (I think you call them youths) in Sherbrooke Road, Carrington, Nottingham
Three of them seem to enjoy insulting passing pedestrians and motorists, threatening them as the pass.
The remaining five walking abortions are happily rummaging through several bags of rubbish and items of furniture that someone has so thoughtfully dumped beside the wheelie bins.
Several of them wander off to set fire to the odd bin. When they get to house number 14, I am concerned they might cause a catastrophe, due to the location of a rusty Calor gas bottle between the bins. If they could be relied on to only blow their own arms and legs off then I would happily leave them to it. I would even go so far as to lend them the matches. Unfortunately they are far more likely to blow up half the street with them and I’ve just finished cleaning me windows.
What I suggest is this. After replying to this e-mail with worthless assurances that the matter is being looked into and will be dealt with, why not leave it until the one night of the year (probably their bath night) when there are no mutants around then drive up the street in a panda car before doing a three point turn and disappearing again. This will of course serve no other purpose than to remind us what policemen actually look like.
I trust that when I take a claw-hammer to the skull of one of these throwbacks you’ll do me the same courtesy of giving me a four month head start before coming to arrest me.
Bespectacled, aged, bald, hearing-aids wearing, short, plump, WordPress.com ace unpaid senile reporter Juan Inchcock Chambers, can now declare that time-travelling is happening today! He has met with and interviewed a traveller from the future, one Zip Vladimir Ivanovic Alonso, who he claims came from the year 2218. Doubters can contact Juan at the side of Trent Bridge near the railings at the fire bombed cafe. The very place where Juan met Zip as he materialised in front of him, and broke his bottle of meths.
The Interview
Inchcock: Why did you travel back to our time Zip?
Zip: Life was finishing on earth in 2044, and it was either £819bn for a ticket to the moon, or £102m for a one way trip back in time at the ‘Travel-back Arcade’.
Inchcock: When and where did you ‘land’ here, if that’s the terminology?
Zip: Same place, as it always is, in this time it was on the embankment near Trent Bridge in the Meadows area of Nottingham. Of course in my day, the Bridge had been long gone, no fresh water left you see, where I appeared if you like, on the steps of the river, was actually the same space as the Travel-back Arcade’s departure lounge.
Inchcock: What was your first thought on getting here Zip?
Zip: That our 2044 Government history tapes supplied by our Minister of Education Montague Abdullah-Miliband were all wrong, I saw you actually did have food available in 2014. Our tapes tell us only the rich were eating in this era, while the deficient, impecunious, impoverished, disabled, and inadequate ones had already starved to death, been fed to the few remaining cattle, or been used in experimentations”.
Inchcock: Would you like to remain and settle here in 2014 Nottingham Zip?
Zip: No, I wouldn’t fit in would I, and the names of the people, archaic names such as Smith, Danton, Williams, etc. No I think it best if I return to my own time once I’ve raised the cash.
Inchcock: Oh, er.. What are your plans now then?
Zip: To get myself ‘in’ with the predecessors’ of the families that will run the world, to make sure I can afford a ticket to the moon when it comes this time… do you happen to know how I can contact any of the Scottish Brown, Cameron, Bush’s or the Saudi Royal Family members, do you?
Inchcock: No, sorry…
With that, the time-traveller faded into the atmosphere and was gone, leaving Inchcock to lick up what he could salvage of his spilt meths.
Giselda was about 5’11” tall, around 15 stone (solid with it), lovely black hair, gorgeous wide hips, tree trunk legs that I instantly wanted to wrap myself around for a month or so. I went where no man had gone before… and boy was it good, did I enjoy it or what!
Part Two – Taking her home…
I was getting myself ready to go and pick up Grizelda, as arranged, from the cottage she was staying in for her visit to England to visit her pen friend and my mate’s wife Susan.
As I was shaving, I was already getting palpitations from certain regions of my anatomy, at the very thought of once more gaining access to Grizelda’s foibles and bodily parts. I came out of dream I was in, and thought I’d better give her a ring to make sure all was still on as planned.
Surprisingly when I called, Susan said Grizelda was shaving too.
She passed on the message that she would meet me at the garden gate at 1100hrs.
I arrived, and as I saw her smile break out above that muscular body, I had to control my legs on the clutch.
I got out to meet her, and she picked me up gave me a wonderful slobbering kiss, put me down, and briefly cuddled my groin area and licked my bald head.
I named my old Allegro Estate, Wilhemena. She’s in the garage again here. She went there a lot!
She got into my Austin Allegro estate, the springs were tested as she sat next to me, and adroitly squeezed certain bodily areas of her choice.
We arrived back at the flat, and she did a tour of it and showed her approval.
I was about to make a cuppa and something for us to eat, when she called from the bedroom – that was that ended the cuppa and cakes idea for the moment!
She stood there naked, dominant, hirsute, and demanding attention.
I noticed an empty ‘Huntsman Bourbon Whiskey’ bottle on the bedside table – ‘Highly Suitable’ I remember thinking. She caught me alright… thank the Lord.
I opened my arms and clasped them around her – then did the same to her other leg.
I was thrown on the bed, and encased in her muscular body as she dived on top… ‘twas heaven!
I thought my ribs would have been broken, but didn’t care, as she rolled over and lifted me on top of her.
I licked her armpits, chest, neck, (avoiding the boils) as she turned over again, crushing my pulsing body beneath her now sweating stomach muscles.
Bliss ensued!
The planned trip to the cinema had to be delayed for another day (thankfully) as she was obviously intent and glad to remain available for more romping for the rest of the day!
My submissions that day were pitiful and pleasurable; I reached new heights of delirium in response to Grizelda’s handling of the situation and everything else she handled.
We went and collected her things from the cottage.
From that day, she stayed at my flat for the duration of her holiday… and my pleasure!
The memories of Grizelda are painful – only due to the fact that they are only memories now.
I was working at the Nottingham Cooperative Society’s Co-op House on Upper Parliament Street, in the food hall, as general dogsbody, and not very popular goffer.
The Caves
On my first day I was sent down to the cellars (Tunnels come caves) below the building, to lay mouse traps and rat poison, in an effort clear the place of the little mites. An order I thought a little out of the ordinary, but I followed them, collected the traps and poison, and went down into the bowels of the building to do my duty. (Little realising that the staff had set up a tape recording of eerie sounds, thinking it would be fun to scare me to death!)
I soon spotted the ‘Bush’ tape recorder after hearing the sounds it emitted, and carried on laying the traps and poison pots. By the time I’d finished, there were already some dead rats in a few of the traps.
Full of myself, I extricated a larger one from the trap, and carrying it in my outstretched hand, re-entered the store warehouse smiling and grinning, saying to I thought the mates I’d left assembling orders fro delivery, thinking I being rather droll and witty: “‘Ere you are then, dead as a dodo, we can put it in the mincer with the beef un make some money… haha…”
I stopped as soon as I realised the area shops inspector was stood directly in front of me!
I managed to get another job with Tesco.
Pat Phoenix’s Visit to Tesco
Pat Phoenix as Elsie Tanner
Tesco on Granby Street in Nottingham, had arranged a promotional visit from Pat Phoenix, who at the time was playing the part of the very popular feisty Elsie Tanner in Coronation Street. She was supposed to sign autographs for ten minutes, and then do a mock shop to impress the public.
It was utter pandemonium, we had earlier built a wall of Heinz soup boxes covered in colourful crepe paper, behind which we had placed a table and chair for her to sit on and greet her fans, and offer her signature to them. (With her very large body guard stood next to her)
So many emotional fans turned up, we had to get all the male staff on the shop floor, to try and control them as they all wanted to speak to her first. At one time, we all linked arms to try and stem the rush of the dear old biddies from causing physical damage to the Ms Phoenix, it was like a football match at times.
She and her bodyguard chain smoked throughout the time Pat was signing her signature for her fans. Rothman’s King Size they both smoked.
After about 40 minutes, she was able to escape the confines of the table and chair, did a very quick pretend shop, took her cheque, and left.
As she was leaving, I noticed that the soup boxes had their crepe paper coverings torn apart, and the tins were crushed and spread out on the floor during the melee. At this point, I also realised that I had blood coming from my ear-hole, and running down my white coat.
A few days later, a photographer, who had been taking pictures of the event on the day, came in, to find the staff in the photos he’s taken to sell them a print.
One of the girls (Kathleen, I remember Kathleen… sorry…) pointed out to me a particular photo; it was taken when I was in the line of staff trying to stem the flow of women, and it showed an old lady, about 5 stones and 4 foot tall, just about to push the pointed end of her rolled up umbrella into my ear-hole, in her efforts to get through to her soap opera idol!
Well at least I now know why I had to have four stitches in my lug-hole!
