sparkindarkness (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sparkindarkness) wrote2006-04-26 12:33 pm
sparkindarkness) wrote2006-04-26 12:33 pm
It happened. I snapped
I lost my temper with a client today. Now that’s something that doesn’t happen very often, after all, if my temper snapped every time I’m confronted with the unreasonable I would be in a small padded cell right now with a nice long sleeved jumper and a muzzle to make sure I stopped trying to destroy the world with my teeth.
But today broke me. An interview with one of my regular criminal clients (yes, that already tells you just about everything you need to know). When this man dies the quality of humanity will increase slightly. His achievements to date are that he has vomited in every continent except Antarctica. I am willing to pay for his trip to Antarctica on the off chance that the vomit will freeze to his face and suffocate him in a painful manner while he is savaged to death by rabid penguins. Failing that I am willing to pay for him to go back to the Australia in the vague hope that something poisonous will risk terminal alcohol poisoning and bight him.
See, this guy is a very bored person. He is sadly unencumbered by employment, education or purpose since he has mastered the art of sponging on his father’s vast wealth (I can only assume that the father accumulated this wealth through some terrible, nefarious purpose and the son was inflicted on him as some kind of really malicious karma. In which case if I were daddy dearest I’d be heading for a Tibetan monastry right now – a lifetime of brown rice, no sex, frostbite and angry Chinese occupiers is nothing compared to staying another day with his spawn).
But I digress. The son’s purpose in life involves drinking everything his father’s money can buy, breaking things his father’s money can repair and sleeping with anything his father’s money can rent. A typical hobby of his is to get extremely drunk until he is seeing double, knock the bottom off a glass bottle and try to shove it in the face of a random stranger – then have daddy buy everyone off. Really, the only possible remaining use for this person is medical research. I understand that recent scandals point to some medical research being unsafe and leading to an agonising death but I’m not willing to get my hopes up and will settle for him being stabbed with lots of big injections.
So I am sat at my desk, sighing dramatically and skillfully honing the haddock to a sharp edge. And the leads of the hounds have been frayed to a hairsbreadth in anticipation of inevitable need when he staggers in to lie to me about his latest encounters so I can try and get him some community service he won’t go to and his father will just pay off.
But he literally staggers in. Staggers and trips and knocks my bookshelf, scattering about £350 worth of books to the floor. And steps on them as he careens away from it. He reaches his chair just as my jaw drops low enough to cause severe bruising on my desk.
Yes, that’s right – he showed up DRUNK for a legal interview on how best to keep his scrawny arse out of prison. Falling down, drop dead, had-to-run-to-the-toilets-while-in-the-waiting-room DRUNK. There are no words.
He sat down and began slurring out his story (before I even said hello). I did not understand a word, so drunk was he. At this point the Hounds have actually frozen in sheer shock and even the haddock is looking very nonplussed. I’m still stunned. Until…. He pulls out his grotty tin of tobacco and begins to roll his own. Yes, he’s so drunk I can’t understand him, he’s vomited in our toilets and now he’s going to smoke in my office.
No, really, let me repeat that so it can actually sink in: he’s so drunk I can’t understand him, he’s vomited in our toilets and now he’s going to smoke in my office. The Hounds? They’re dead, they’re just dead from sheer shock. It has happened. There is a client here that is so stupid that he broke the Hounds. The haddock, gah, the haddock wilted like Hugh Heffner when the Viagra wears off.
Defenseless I resort to the lawyer gaze of death and tell him to get out. Literally. Actually, literally I said:
Me: Get the hell out of my office.
Him: *hic**urp* wha-?
Me: Get out. You’re drunk. It’s pointless you being here.
Him: But dad..
Me: No, just get out. I’m not wasting my time on this. Get out and reschedule for when you’re sober.
Him: *mumble slur* dad *slur*
Me: No buts, the door is there. I’m billing you for a standard 30 minute interview. I’ll have {mad secretary} send you a letter explaining why if you need explain things to your father.
Him: *mumble* *growl**staggers* {Actually, I’m not sure if he didn’t try to hit me then but he tripped over his chair so, I’m not sure}
Some people just aren’t worth the air they consume. Still, I just billed for 30 minutes for 2 minutes work, so there is a plus side
But today broke me. An interview with one of my regular criminal clients (yes, that already tells you just about everything you need to know). When this man dies the quality of humanity will increase slightly. His achievements to date are that he has vomited in every continent except Antarctica. I am willing to pay for his trip to Antarctica on the off chance that the vomit will freeze to his face and suffocate him in a painful manner while he is savaged to death by rabid penguins. Failing that I am willing to pay for him to go back to the Australia in the vague hope that something poisonous will risk terminal alcohol poisoning and bight him.
See, this guy is a very bored person. He is sadly unencumbered by employment, education or purpose since he has mastered the art of sponging on his father’s vast wealth (I can only assume that the father accumulated this wealth through some terrible, nefarious purpose and the son was inflicted on him as some kind of really malicious karma. In which case if I were daddy dearest I’d be heading for a Tibetan monastry right now – a lifetime of brown rice, no sex, frostbite and angry Chinese occupiers is nothing compared to staying another day with his spawn).
But I digress. The son’s purpose in life involves drinking everything his father’s money can buy, breaking things his father’s money can repair and sleeping with anything his father’s money can rent. A typical hobby of his is to get extremely drunk until he is seeing double, knock the bottom off a glass bottle and try to shove it in the face of a random stranger – then have daddy buy everyone off. Really, the only possible remaining use for this person is medical research. I understand that recent scandals point to some medical research being unsafe and leading to an agonising death but I’m not willing to get my hopes up and will settle for him being stabbed with lots of big injections.
So I am sat at my desk, sighing dramatically and skillfully honing the haddock to a sharp edge. And the leads of the hounds have been frayed to a hairsbreadth in anticipation of inevitable need when he staggers in to lie to me about his latest encounters so I can try and get him some community service he won’t go to and his father will just pay off.
But he literally staggers in. Staggers and trips and knocks my bookshelf, scattering about £350 worth of books to the floor. And steps on them as he careens away from it. He reaches his chair just as my jaw drops low enough to cause severe bruising on my desk.
Yes, that’s right – he showed up DRUNK for a legal interview on how best to keep his scrawny arse out of prison. Falling down, drop dead, had-to-run-to-the-toilets-while-in-the-waiting-room DRUNK. There are no words.
He sat down and began slurring out his story (before I even said hello). I did not understand a word, so drunk was he. At this point the Hounds have actually frozen in sheer shock and even the haddock is looking very nonplussed. I’m still stunned. Until…. He pulls out his grotty tin of tobacco and begins to roll his own. Yes, he’s so drunk I can’t understand him, he’s vomited in our toilets and now he’s going to smoke in my office.
No, really, let me repeat that so it can actually sink in: he’s so drunk I can’t understand him, he’s vomited in our toilets and now he’s going to smoke in my office. The Hounds? They’re dead, they’re just dead from sheer shock. It has happened. There is a client here that is so stupid that he broke the Hounds. The haddock, gah, the haddock wilted like Hugh Heffner when the Viagra wears off.
Defenseless I resort to the lawyer gaze of death and tell him to get out. Literally. Actually, literally I said:
Me: Get the hell out of my office.
Him: *hic**urp* wha-?
Me: Get out. You’re drunk. It’s pointless you being here.
Him: But dad..
Me: No, just get out. I’m not wasting my time on this. Get out and reschedule for when you’re sober.
Him: *mumble slur* dad *slur*
Me: No buts, the door is there. I’m billing you for a standard 30 minute interview. I’ll have {mad secretary} send you a letter explaining why if you need explain things to your father.
Him: *mumble* *growl**staggers* {Actually, I’m not sure if he didn’t try to hit me then but he tripped over his chair so, I’m not sure}
Some people just aren’t worth the air they consume. Still, I just billed for 30 minutes for 2 minutes work, so there is a plus side
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Um.
Er.
Um.
*blinks* *blinks again*
Er. Um. And well done. *blinks*
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Yes, that was kind of my reaction too.
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I'd have billed for an hour.
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My poor weapons against mass stupidit. i mourn them
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And that sounds positively reasonable to me.
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True, I didn't stab him to death with a biro which was my first instinct.
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Have you called the demonic vet to see to the Hounds? I'm not entirely sure what you can do about the Haddock......but if you think of anything, make sure you bill that to the Drunken Waste of Skin as well.
Failing that, what are the odds on persuading his dad to arrange for him to have an accident? After all, he can always adopt a replacement....
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Wait... that would mean finding people to work for me who aren't stupid. thsi could be problematic.
The hounds will rise again as... ZOMBIE HOUNDS
Ah, the dad is irrationally attached to the creature. Unreasonable, isn;t he?
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Argh, the partners want to keep him. Privately paying criminal clients pay a LOT more than publically funded ones - a repeat offender who privately pays is a little gold mine *groan*
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Hell, just have speakers outside the building that say it as soon as he shows up
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Now that would be fun - he steps through the threshold "get out! That will be £150 please."
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btw, sorry for the journal spamming. Was pulling an all nighter to finish packing up for moving house and started browsing journals to pass the time, there were just too many interesting/funny posts :p. Mind if I add you? t'd mean a reduction in mass replies (and I might even be able to send one before a month has passed ;p)
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thought you should know.
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*worries about the hounds*
Meep :(
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I will raise undead hounds! The stupid of the world beware!
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Um, seriously. This guy can only be improved with death.
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...and they'd still be scum.
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I'll just sell him to McDonalds for burger meat
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Just make sure it's a high one.
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use him for chum, and we can shoot a nature special about drunken sharks.
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Or we can attack him with that tea cup. That icon is scary-disturbing
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Oh no, not the Hounds! I don't know how to revive the Hounds :( Can we revive them with revenge fantasies? I'm trying to remember the name of a particular medicine.
Hee, found it. Antabuse. http://www.webmd.com/drugs/drug-6676-Antabuse.aspx?drugid=6676&drugname=Antabuse
This medication is used to help treat alcoholism.
This drug is not a cure for alcoholism and must be used in combination with supportive therapy and counseling.
This medication must never be used without a person's knowledge.
Do not take this medication for at least 12 hours after drinking alcohol.
While taking this medication, it is extremely important you avoid alcohol in all forms including beer, wine, aftershave lotions, mouthwash, colognes, liquid medications. Read labels carefully, including those of nonprescription products, and ask your pharmacist about the alcohol content if you are uncertain.
Tell your doctor your medical history, especially: heart disease, liver or kidney disease, psychiatric problems, diabetes, any allergies (especially to rubber or pesticides).
This medication causes an intolerance to alcohol. Drinking alcohol while on this medication can cause serious effects that can last from 30 minutes to several hours. It produces an unpleasant reaction of flushing, headache, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, sweating, pounding heart (palpitations), blurred vision or weakness when even small amounts of alcohol are ingested. These disulfiram-alcohol reactions can occur up to two weeks after the medication has been stopped.
Because disulfiram can cause drowsiness, use caution when driving or engaging in activities requiring alertness.
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It's hot sticky sweet....
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sugar_of_Lead
I'm blinded by the light...
http://www.jtbaker.com/msds/englishhtml/M2015.htm
Grecian formula...
http://www.robertcraig.com/php/index.php
Lead in Haircolor?
February 5th, 1997 Once again the newspapers and television reporters are on our profession's case and putting a scare into the public over haircolor. The recent reports of lead in haircolor are not new. Products containing this ingredient have been on the market for years and are never used by professional colorists. The researchers tested residual lead levels in the hair and on the hands of users, but did not check tissue or blood samples. The affected products were primarily the "gradual color" products that are the most heavily advertised for men (Grecian Formula, Youthair and similar preparations). A spokesperson for the company that manufacutures Grecian Formula issued a statement strongly denying any danger in using the products and asserting their absolute safety. Our resident chemist, Rick, puts it like this:
"Maybe I can shed some light on this subject. Some dyes contain metal atoms. These are known as metallic dyes. The best-known metallic hair dye is "Grecian formula" which contains lead acetate. When lead acetate is in contact with air, it decomposes to form finely-divided metallic lead. Other metallic dyes contain metals trapped or chelated in some sort of organic matrix. Most hair dyes are non-metallic. The problem comes when someone wants to dye hair that has been previously-colored with a metallic dye. Most conventional hair dyes use hydrogen peroxide (H2O2) to "develop" the color and to lighten the hair. Many metals will catalyze the decomposition of hydrogen peroxide. When it decomposes, it forms water (H2O) and oxygen (O2) and when this occurs, a lot of heat is produced. The heat can cause severe scalp burns. There are products that can remove metals and metallic dyes. As Robert noted, they are best used by a professional who knows what to do. It is definitely not a do-it-yourself project."
As the reports stated, Grecian formula is a product that should probably be avoided. Professional colorists have looked for and avoided this type of product for years. Perm solution coming in contact with a lead acetate can literally disintegrate the hair.
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but if I was in a position to spike his drink, I would use strychnine
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I'm sure prospective clients among the decent muggers and rapists will understand.
But do please keep his name on a list. After all, I will need lists once I am World Dictator.
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beat him to death with broom handles though, that I can do.
He is on the painful death list. I already keep one :)
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He.
That.
And.
It.
Just.
What the bloody fucking fuck was this guy drinking that he could have possibly thought for even one minute that an absolutely idiotic, moronic, asinine, inane, brainless (I'll put the thesaurus away now) stunt like that would be acceptable?!
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That was my reaction. Probably the main reason why I didn't just throw myself over the table stabbing.
He is spoilt brat. world revolves around hbim. of course he can drink in a law interview. He wants to so the whole world should change to allow this.
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What I love most of all is when you say to them:
"Have you been drinking?" and they respond with:
"No." and then, prompted by a look of extreme disbelief from my boss: "Well, I might have had a few cans at breakfast."
Clients. Gotta love them :)
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Oh yes, "I haven't been drinking, I only had 6 pints" yes. Talking to clients is like talking to 6 year olds - you have to follow up everything "have you been drinking?" "Really?" "Really really?" "Just a few?" "How many is a few?" "More than one?" "More than 3?"
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The times I've got witness statements and statements of fact and just shook my head - no-one's going to believe it, how am I going to convince a court?
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the
fuck?
No, seriously, what the fuck! That is just...wayyyy beyond the pale. Want help sending this guy to Antartica? I want him off my planet.
*wandered over from
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Antartica? But what about the poor penguins? Will no-one think of the penguins?
(And icon love)
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The icon is yankable, if you're interested.
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oooh, thank you. Now I just need to see if I have icon space left