This week sees me enter my second week of full time employment in a new job. It's only the second time in 25 years I've worked for an employer. I've always been self employed you see.
When I left school I went straight into work as a joiner. My dad had his own double glazing company and that was me fucked. No escape. I had no choice but to be a joiner.
I done that for 9 years then discovered that if I sold windows I could make more in 2 hours selling them than 40 hours of making the fuckers so that was me sold, a salesman was the life for me.
This week has got me thinking of the first time I worked for an employer and how that turned out.
It was 1995. Me and my da were constantly at each others throat. My maw had just died and it was clear me and my da just couldn't work together again so my girlfriend at the time put a word in at the council and got me a job working for Glasgow District Council in the Parks and Recreation dept
My job was to hand out bowls in Castlemilk Sports Centre and if I'm honest I fucking loved it.
All I did all day was hand out bowls to drunk cunts, make a skin (which made me more than my wages) , drink a few beers with said drunk cunts while one of them kept edgy and then go home.
One drunk Saturday I went up my da's to see my brother. His room was the attic conversion and he was right into his computers and stuff and I'd pop up now and then for a wee gossip and a game of Joust or whatever.
My brother started telling me about the internet and shit and how it all worked and told me he could send faxes through the internet and withhold his number.
My drunken mischief making head came on. My brother done this deliberately. He always used to do this. He knew I only needed a wee bit of a nudge to do stupid stuff. I'm not complaining, I love doing stupid stuff.
I faxed my boss (a guy called John Gilhoolie) at Castlemilk Sports Centre mad mental stuff. Calling him a sex case and a drug dealer and stuff and hit enter and bang, it had been sent. It was about 2 in the morning and I wasnae happy with just that so I sent another 7 or fucking 8 to him, each one progressively cheekier than the last.
Next day (a bit parra) I'm like "Here Brian, that fax shite defo disnae have oor phone number on it, naw?"
He said naw. He was telling the truth. It didn't.
I had a right giggle to myself at work on the Monday. John was marching about with his face all bright red. Pure growling at cunts. It took about 2 weeks for him to smile again. I'll be honest, I couldnae stop laughing.
3 weeks later
The summer and therefore the bowling season was over. I was to be transferred down to Pollok leisure pool on the Monday as my new job as a lifeguard. It was my last day in Castlemilk and as a wee playful prank on John I made a poster up that said "FREE PIES IN CANTEEN BETWEEN 3-4PM - ASK JOHN GILHOOLIE FOR DETAILS" and posted it on the outside of the sports centre. Just a wee bit of harmless fun.
A few folk came in and enquired and I told a confused John what I'd done and he laughed and said "Ach see you Davie ya madman, I'll miss yae so's a will" and we both walked out to see my poster.
John smiling away
haha Davie ya madman
His eyes reading down the poster
His face turns to stone
"That's not how you spell my second name"
"Oh right mate, easy mistake eh? haha", says I.
"No, not an easy mistake. That's only the second time in my life I've ever seen it spelt like that"
"Oh right haha aye I'm no very clever haha"
"Naw yer fucking no urr yae?"
(My face beetroot with embarrassment, his beetreet with rage)
I just fucking bolted like a big fucking wean. I looked round. He was pointing at me and talking to a big cunt as if to say "close off all exits to Castlemilk. He must never leave alive"
I mean ffs you know what I wrote in the first fax. If I told yae what I put in faxes 2-8 you'd never speak to me again.