Life is riddled with a procession of minor impediments

[I, Cosh]

A sad day indeed Dan. I've never been in the Lass O'Gowrie (a bit surprised about that after looking it up on the map) but it sounds like a great place. One of the things I really like about a visit to Manchester is that it has a really good mix of nice, natural seeming modern bars alongside really great, characterful old places like Peveril of the Peak and the Castle Hotel.

I shall pour a cold one out on the kerb tonight in solidarity with your loss.

[Rog69]

Well that was a nice start to the week  .

A dopey lorry driver slammed into the back of my 6 month old car while I was in stationary traffic on the motorway (said his foot slipped of the peddle) and made a proper mess of my rear end (ooo err). One thing that really pissed me off is that I chose this car because it has some really advanced safety features, but None of the airbags deployed. At least one tried, the charge went off and filled the car with smoke but I just got a bunch of airbag error messages on the display instead. Not very useful.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, after limping home in a state of semi-shock, I failed to notice a pile of dog shit right outside my gate and proceeded to walk it through the kitchen, dining room and up the stairs before it finally petered out halfway down the landing.

[Theblazeuk]

The Lass sounded good, never knew about it sadly!

There is a pub I can never remember the name of that does good ales and has a copy of the Anthrax Dredd LP on the wall, loads of weird things all over the place including a penguin on the roof and other stuff. Opposite the co-op building I think?

[Tiplodocus]

I recall many a fine evening spent in "The Lass" in the eighties and nineties*. Sad.



* yes, the innuendo is deliberate.

[TordelBack]

Bloody hell Rog, that was a morning.  Hope you get the car/carpet sorted sharpish, and glad to hear there were no injuries.

And sorry for your loss, DDD.

[The Legendary Shark]

I have a part-time driving job. This morning I got a call from the boss - urgent job broken out, one pallet of salad needs taking to a large Asda distribution centre over 200 miles away. Rush job. Asda desperate. Can I go, like now? Sure. So off I went.


Due to the M6 being nothing more than one almighty car park today because of road works and accidents all over the place I had to take an exceptionally silly and circuitous route. Took me five hours to do a trip that should have taken about three and I got there on time, which nobody expected. Good for me.


On arrival at this place I parked outside the security lodge and handed my paperwork to the Security Lady.


"I'm turning you away," she said, "you're not allowed on site."


"Why, what's up?" I asked, thinking they were maybe having a fire drill or a strike or a power failure or something.


"There's a dog in your cab," she said, pointing in case this situation had escaped my attention.


I agreed that this was indeed the case at which point she started to write "REFUSED ACCESS" all over my paperwork. I explained that my dog always comes with me and has never been refused access to any such place, including other Asda sites, and on the rare occasions when his presence has provoked comment it has only been to say how cute he is or to ensure he remains in the cab, which he always does.


She shrugged and handed me back my now defaced paperwork.


"Now, hang on a minute, there must be a way to..."


"No."


"Can't you look after him in here while I tip this one urgent pallet?"


"No."


"I'll give you a tenner if..."


"No. I work for Asda, not for you."


There were a couple of other guards in the Lodge so I offered them the same deal, suggesting that they could take an official break and earn themselves a tenner while I... But, suddenly, each of them found something exceptionally important and requiring their immediate and undivided attention on their computer monitors. The Security Lady smirked.


"Look," forcing calm, "this one pallet I have is supposed to be urgent. I've been bringing it for five hours." She shrugs. "It's just a dog - not a wolf or a terrorist or a bomb. He's not dangerous or disease-ridden or explosive." Another shrug.


Calmness oozing away.


"Okay - I noticed plenty of staff cars here - maybe we can find one of your workers who wants to earn a tenner on their break..."


"No."


"Those trees over there, if I secure him to one of those while I go in, you could maybe just keep an eye on him?"


"No." (And I did secretly thank her for that - it was a horrible option.)


Calmness now of the glacial persuasion.


"All this over a dog! A dog who'll stay LOCKED in the cab like he ALWAYS does! I bet you get wild cats all over this place all the time! Rabbits and pigeons and crows and hedgehogs - not to mention rats and mice!"


"No dogs."


I ask to see her supervisor in order to negotiate a one-time amnesty but she says that she has no supervisor. She is Queen of the Gate and I shall not pass. I can do nought but retreat.


I call my boss. The only thing he can suggest is driving up in his car to look after the dog while I go in to unload my one pallet. The drive will take him three or four hours. Jeez. But it's a plan, so I return to present it to Her Majesty.


"No. Be closed for deliveries by then." The news is displeasing, especially to the boss, who can envision this contract slipping away. I can do nothing but tell the Boss to leave it with me and retire from the field, driving away from the Gate House and searching for a plan.


The place is an industrial estate just off a new road. There's nothing about until I backtrack to the roundabout and spot a Travel Lodge. I wondered if they accepted pets and how much the rooms were. It was either that or ask some truck drivers parked up in a layby, which was another horrible option - not because I don't trust my fellow knights of the road but because they might have to leave before I could get back or something, birthing a situation that could become very awkward very quickly. So I drove towards the hotel.


Joy of joys! Behind the hotel, hidden by it, a spanking new housing estate and a woman walking two small dogs. So I stop the truck and explain my dilemma to her and ask her if she can help me.


"Yes."


I followed her to her house and left my dog - my Little Brother, my best friend, my only companion, my Chip - in the hands of a complete stranger. Pet owners will be able to imagine my feelings at this time.


The Queen of the Gate didn't believe my gall in coming back and reminded me of the ABSOLUTELY AND DEFINITELY POSITIVELY NO DOGS policy, whereupon I informed her that I'd found a decent human being to help me out. One of her minions was dispatched to search the cab, which he reported as dog-free. He didn't want to, bless him, but I made him look in the back as well - because Her Majesty would expect it. A stifled grin. In, tip, out - fifteen minutes. Twenty, tops. Maybe twenty five. As I pass out of the complex, past the same Gate House, I notice that Her Majesty is absent.


The lady who took my dog, whose name transpired to be Helen, said that Chip had comported himself honourably. She refused the tenner I insisted she have. Three times I offered and three times she refused. So thank you, Helen, for restoring my faith in humanity so soon after it had been shaken. May you live for as long as you want and not want for as long as you live.


And to the Asda Security Lady... well, what can I say? May you keep your job forever.

[Banners]

Ah, Jeez - that all sounds crazy but I'm glad it got sorted. There are too many people like Asda lady, and not nearly enough like Helen!

[TordelBack]

That is one of the most ridiculous stories I have ever heard.  But beautifully told - if only That's Life was still going you'd have a gig there in no time. 

I assume she checked your cab for alcohol, drugs, porn etc. - I'd be fairly sure none of those are 'allowed on site' either.  Surely what's in a lorry cab is completely irrelevant to the hygiene/safety of a delivery.  If the concern is food safety, then presumably the exterior of the vehicle itself is more of an issue - how much shit, piss and vomit have the tyres rolled over?

Congratulations on keeping your head and finding a solution.  I've often driven for work with my dog in tow too and it has never been an issue (although I would never take him out on site), and I'm not sure I'd have lasted the course.  Although that said, the 'learning objective' I'm taking away from this is that there when you can find a random stranger on the street to help you out in a pinch, the good guys are still winning.

[Banners]

I assume she checked your cab for alcohol, drugs, porn etc. - I'd be fairly sure none of those are 'allowed on site' either.

We're looking to rent a place at the moment, and I find it odd that some people stipulate no pets and leave it at that. This means that our harmless, soporific cat is banned – but that we are completely free to conduct our raucous and messy fortnightly Satanic virgin blood sacrifices.

[SmallBlueThing]

That just makes my blood boil, really. A complaint to the store manager from you or your boss, surely, is needed. I cant believe you kept so calm, idve "accidentally" run her over.

SBT

[mogzilla]

I'm assuming pallets are quite heavy or I'd have dragged it out of the truck and dumped it on the road. friggin jobsworths

[CrazyFoxMachine]

You should have gone back dressed as a dog.

[The Legendary Shark]

Thanks all for your comments - I was beginning to wonder if I had been in the wrong, after all. Glad it's not just me who thinks the situation was rather foolish and also a little worrying. I was put in mind of that US university study, which I can't be bothered Googling the details about, where some students were invited to play "prisoners and guards." If memory serves, that study had to be prematurely cancelled because it turned all the "guards" into power-mad psychopaths.

The thing about dumping the pallet at the gate (which did cross my mind) or other such retaliatory action would result in my boss having his contract cancelled. Same thing if he or I make a complaint, these big supermarket chains are laws unto themselves and they'e more likely to cancel than engage. So you just have to bend over and take it.

In the final analysis, though, I agree with Tordels - the good guys are winning!

[Proudhuff]

Indeed Sharkie!
You'd think a 'the dog stays in the cab' would have ticked all the boxes for the Lady of gate.

[CrazyFoxMachine]

You'd think a 'the dog stays in the cab' would have ticked all the boxes for the Lady of gate.

Isn't technically the interior of a vehicle not "the site" anyway - this is why workmen don't have to wear full PPE when they're in the cabs of their diggers? I say this because I was on quite a strict worksite the other day (arms covered, gloves and goggles at all times etc) and I noticed the digger drivers would gleefully peel off their protective gear the minute they mounted the vehicle. Not totally. Nobody wants to see that.

So "no dogs on site" isn't relevant if the dog doesn't leave the vehicle. I'd be all like "yeah go in but if I see that dog out of the car I'll have your arse". I have no doubt, given the intricate unfurling structure of your story (you are a writer sir!) that it didn't exactly play out word-for-word like that but you (and Helen) have acted commendably there by not blowin' up and making things more difficult for your boss. PATIENCE +20 DOG SKILLS +20 ASDA BOTHERY +20 you've levelled up, Shark!