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Best "late for work" excuse

  • Thread starter Thread starter maugein96
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maugein96

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Just wondered if anybody has heard a "late for work" excuse that tops this one.

When I worked on the buses in Glasgow in 1972/3 there was an elderly bus conductor named Greg Tassie. Greg was an absolute master of the tall story, and some of them were legendary.

I believe he attended university in pursuance of engineering studies, but dropped out to take up a more lucrative career as a bus conductor with Glasgow Corporation Transport. He certainly spoke with an "educated" accent and that set him apart from his colleagues. He was always theorising about all sorts of bus related things, and was one of those very steady types who was well suited to his vocation.

He arrived slightly late for work one morning, and should have "signed on" by 0500. He just made it before 0503 otherwise he'd have been sent home without pay. When the controller, Willie Marr, asked him why he was late, this is the story he related:-

"Last night just before 2100 I was just about to go to bed when the phone rang. It was my old University pal, Jimmy McGinty, who had run into trouble on a North Sea oilrig he was working on. He asked me if I could help him out, but I said I'd need to actually see the problem for myself. He told me to get a taxi to Glasgow Airport and board the next plane to Bergen in Norway, where I would be uplifted by helicopter and taken to the oilrig concerned.

I had to advise him that I was the most senior bus conductor at Parkhead Garage, and my presence was required at 0500 the next morning, so it was absolutely paramount that he got me back in time to sign on for 0500 spare (a "standby duty" in case somebody overslept). Jimmy said it would be no problem so off I went. When I arrived on the oilrig a study of the drawings instantly revealed the problem. A non-return valve had been fitted the wrong way round, so I told them what to do and managed to get it sorted out.

Jimmy thanked me and told the helicopter pilot just to take me straight back to Parkhead. However, I had to advise the pilot that he wouldn't have enough fuel, so we had to "leapfrog" to various refuelling points en route. He was able to drop me off at Parkhead Cross, and I ran as fast as I could, but obviously arrived two minutes late, for which I apologise profusely."

Willie fancied he could outwit Greg and said, "And what did they pay you for sorting all that out?"

Greg replied, " Oh nothing. I wouldn't accept any fees from an old pal but did take him up on his kind offer of 1 penny a gallon of fuel for my boat for life."

Willie:- "But you haven't got a boat, Greg"

Greg:- "Yes, I know, but when I do get a boat it will be a penny a gallon for life."

Unfortunately I wasn't party to the conversation, and got it third hand from Willie Marr, who dined out on the story for quite a long time.

There is some speculation that Greg had actually rehearsed the "late for work excuse", as he had a wicked sense of humour, but he told so many "whoppers" it was difficult to know what to think. It wasn't possible to land a helicopter at Parkhead Cross due to overhanging electrical cables, and but for that big Greg actually had one or two "takers" for his story.
 
Hi John,

This is not a funny excuse for being late, but it is a true account of an actual incident.

Many years ago, I knew a young woman who owned a Triumph Spitfire soft top. One morning as she was driving to work along a country lane, a horse and its rider jumped the hedgerow and landed on top of her car.

Surprisingly, she wasn't killed, but she did have some very serious injuries. One of the horse's hooves severed her thigh, smashing her femur and causing massive damage to the surrounding tissue.

As you might expect, her recovery was very slow and painful, but recover she did. It took a long time, but she was eventually able to walk (and drive) again.

I have no idea who first told her employer of this incident, or whether the story was instantly accepted as the truth. All I do know is that she was a lovely and a very lucky girl.

Kind Regards,

Stephen.
 
Stephen,

in a similar vein, when I was a cop in West Lothian, Scotland, I had to attend the report of an accident involving a small van which had collided with a bullock on a country lane near a place called Ecclesmachan.

By the time I got there the two occupants of the van had been taken into a local farmhouse and were lying on sofas waiting for an ambulance. What was immediately apparent was the overpowering putrid smell coming from the head of one of the casualties, and from the colour of his face I thought he was on his last legs. It was mid summer and both windows of the van had been open. The bullock had jumped over a dry stone wall and had tried to turn and jump back over it again when the passenger's head struck the posterior of the bullock, which had been in the act of defecating at the time.

It was the clearest case of bullshit I ever saw, but was a true story nevertheless. The bullock had to be put down, as it had broken a leg, but the two occupants of the van survived to tell the tale.

We rural types were often called to incidents involving farm animals, and one of the craziest ever was a brood of ducklings struck by a posh lady in a Land Rover whilst fording one of the local rivers. I explained that injury to ducks was not notifiable to the police, and ran through the list of the animals that were legally notifiable. She took exception to the fact that I appeared to be lecturing her and said "What happens if I run over a pig?" With the best restraint I could muster I replied "You'd probably be "ducked" if you did that".

She reported me, and I was summoned to the Chief Inspector's office. He asked me why I had been so silly as to say what I did. I replied "It could have been worse. I could have told her to "duck off!" It was little things like that which ensured I would never progress beyond the rank of Constable, and gave me the reputation of being an "incorrigible rogue", which did actually appear on one of my annual assessments. Still managed to complete my time and get a full pension, by some miracle. My 12 years as a bus driver following my retirement from the police gave me more scope for devilment, and needless to say I got into trouble on several occasions there as well.

Passenger:- "Why are you 20 minutes late?"

Me:- "I was actually only 5 minutes late until every other passenger demanded a detailed explanation from me. By the way I'm now 22 minutes late!"

Passenger:- "Why is this bus freezing cold?"

Me:- " In weather like this I need the cab heater on full blast, and the heated driver's seat keeps cutting out after 30 minutes. You're only on the bus for half an hour, and I've got to sit here for 5 hours".

Passenger:- "What's the quickest way to get to Peebles?"

Me:- "Probably by car" (doors shut, and drive away).

Passenger:- "Can you change a £20 note?"

Me:- "Certainly. Would you like it in 1 pence pieces or 2s?"

Passenger (in dead of winter with huge snow drifts, when I was the first bus through for 2 hours):- "What time do you call this?"

Me:- "Winter time!"

There are many, many, more. We hated them and they hated us even more. Best one was "You're just a public servant". Best reply was "Yes I know and I'm not even a very good one. Sorry!"
 
Hello John,

Your story has reminded me of an incident which occurred in Blackpool, Lancashire about forty years ago. A Police Sergeant who was a fellow instructor related this account to me.

Blackpool Tower Circus has (or had) quite a few Elephants in its show. Very often, in the early hours of the morning, the keepers would walk the Elephants across the road and onto the beach. Depending on the tides, the Elephants would often have a little play in the surf.

One night, at about two in the morning, a troupe of Elephants were making their way across the road. A car hit one of Elephants at a fairly low speed, causing the Elephant to fall onto the car and crush it.

You will be relieved to know that the Elephant was unharmed, but the car was a total write off. My friend was the first officer on the scene, which meant that he had to write up an accident report. Unsurprisingly, it took him some time to wrestle his report into shape.

In my entire service, that is the only incident of a road traffic accident involving Elephants that I know of. I only wish that I had been there to see it.

Kind Regards,

Stephen.
 
Hi Stephen,

Glad they never considered prosecuting the driver, as there was a hell of a big grey area involved with that one.

I've seen hundreds of thousands of cars driving over "zebras", and "pelicans" without any problems at all, but I suppose if you're going to hit any living creature with a car then an elephant is as good a target as you'll get.

In the days before people started to worry about where dogs and small animals should travel in their cars, I attended an accident on the approach to the old Forth Road Bridge. The elderly driver of a Volvo estate had decided to stop dead to see if he could find the correct money for the toll, and a 38 tonne lorry travelling behind him made a mess of the back of his car, much the same as your elephant would.

The Volvo car driver (who was from down your way) kept saying "Is doggie alright, luv?" to his wife, who had suffered severe whiplash, as had he. Unfortunately there was no sign of doggie at all in the car. However, the rear nearside window of the estate car had blown out and doggie had been propelled through it onto the grass verge. I hear you say "That was a lucky doggie", and he would have been if the car travelling behind the lorry hadn't driven onto the verge on the nearside of the lorry to avoid running into the back of it. Doggie had the presence of mind to flee out of the path of the oncoming car on the verge, but in doing so ran out into the main carriageway of the A90 road and his luck ran out when the sidecar wheel of a motorcycle combination ran right over the top of him and killed him outright. In the meantime the Volvo driver, on realising what had happened, suffered a heart attack, and the lorry driver collapsed with an asthma attack. He had suffered a minor chest injury which was enough to trigger the attack.

Fortunately, all of the human casualties survived, but "Doggie was definitely not alright, luv!" on that particular occasion. The initial worry was that the dog, a tiny Yorkshire terrier, had been crushed between heavy suitcases in the rear of the car, although I think that would have been a less dramatic end to his life than what actually happened to him.

On another occasion on the same road we attended the report of an 11 vehicle accident in fog, but could only account for 10 1/2 of the vehicles involved. We searched the area until we found the front half of a little Citroen AX car, which had been cleaved in two by yet another 38 tonne lorry. The front half kept going through a hedge into a field, where we found two elderly ladies in their 80s, still sitting in the front seats with their seatbelts on in a state of severe shock. The passenger had a little Cairn Terrier sitting on her lap with a broken leg, but otherwise OK.

When we eventually got dogs we went nowhere with them unless we had a heavy duty mesh dog guard fitted.

Just off to take the car to have an elephant detector fitted to the front of it, although if an elephant crushed my car it would probably be doing me a favour!
 
Hi John,

In a time before trucks were obliged to have bars which prevented cars and bikes from running under their rear ends, some colleagues of mine attended at a fatal traffic accident. A Police Surgeon pronounced "life extinct" at the scene, after which the body was removed to the police mortuary by one of the undertakers on the rota.

Upon their arrival at the police mortuary, the officers dealing with the accident soon discovered that the top of this chap's skull was missing, as was most of his brain. My partner and myself were in the vicinity of the garage to which the car was removed, and were sent to see what we could discover about the missing bits of head.

As this car had gone under the truck, the roof had been peeled back. Rummaging around on the back seat, my mate found a Trilby hat containing the missing skull and brain matter. We transported these bits to the police mortuary to be reunited with the rest of this chap.

Have I ever told you about "the body in the barn?" That is a real horror story, but I don't wish to offend any-ones sensibilities with the gory details of this stomach turning episode. Suffice to say that I had to burn my uniform, as no amount of washing could ever have got that smell out of it.

Kind Regards,

Stephen.
 
Well Stephen,

I suppose we could both have the "censors" getting involved with our blood curdling stories, but we just had to get on with it. We were perhaps one of more sophisticated of the "refuse disposal teams". Nobody wants to be a refuse collector, and most people see the police service glamourised on TV programmes as all action blue light stuff. Gets the viewing numbers up, but bears absolutely no relationship to what actually goes on out there.

TV programmes involving Scottish cops can cause a fair bit of confusion, as we have our own legal system based on Roman Law, and a lot of the legal terminology and crime definitions are different from how the TV producers portray us.

For example, in Scotland a Sheriff is a judge, not a guy with a "badge" and deputies.

Talking about "badges", if any of you Transatlantic types are approached by a female Scottish police officer working in plain clothes, please ask to see her "warrant card", rather than ask her to show you her "badge". In some areas of Scotland the word "badge" can refer to a unique part of the female anatomy. Therefore, the words, "I'll have your badge!", could get you into all sorts of trouble.

Burned one or two uniforms myself in my career, but I'd best not elaborate.

Couldn't hand in my "badge" when I retired, as male Scottish officers don't have them!
 
I haven't laughed so much for ages, you two !!! :lol: I think our job produced too many funnies to list here. My sergeant came from Islay and when asked in court about his eyesight, said "On a bright night, from Helensburgh pier, I can see the moon".

John, you're right about the difference between Scottish and English criminal law - I worked in both countries and certainly preferred Scottish law. Policing certainly isn't all action - nights were either deadly dull or non-stop. And heaven help you if you got caught in the rain in uniform without one of those terrible leaky raincoats they used to issue. A white shirt soon turned to grey.

Talking of terminology - I wonder how an American would reply if you asked him if he'd brought his "piece" with him :lol: That said, it may no longer be current usage in either country !!
 
Corsaire post_id=61483 time=1532870289 user_id=2107 said:
John, youre right about the difference between Scottish and English criminal law - I worked in both countries and certainly preferred Scottish law. Policing certainly isnt all action - nights were either deadly dull or non-stop. And heaven help you if you got caught in the rain in uniform without one of those terrible leaky raincoats they used to issue. A white shirt soon turned to grey.

Hi Corsaire,

Long time no speak. Ive been on and off the forum for a while now, and had resolved to slow it down a bit, which I have, to a degree. I have a love hate relationship with the accordion. I love it but it hates me.

I completed 3 years as an airman in the Royal Navy, and left to join Sussex Police, where I did 2 1/2 years in Brighton and Lewes, before I began to suffer from that incurable condition called homesickness. I transferred to the then Lothian and Borders Police in 1979, and served in Edinburgh, West Lothian, and finally here in Hawick, until I retired in 2004. I only had to do 27 years and 8 months as a cop due to transfer of my military pension, and I lost 8 months of that pension in the transfer process.

Yes, I remember the leaky raincoats, and all the other crap uniform we were issued. I did 2 years in Leith Docks where they had to issue us with foul weather gear, and it still leaked!

The word piece is still used in Scotland, but is perhaps not so common as it once was.

I never really had enough time to get my teeth into the English system, but found that both systems had their advantages and disadvantages. My last 5 years was as the Case Manager in the Scottish Borders, where I did sometimes wish we had the English system, after they did away with the corroborative statement arrangement. Corroborating officers were obliged to furnish full separate statement after that, and each one had to be thoroughly checked for accuracy.

New lawyers first day in court:- And did you in fact arrest my client, Constable? Naw sir it wis mah colleague. O.K. no further questions. The defence calls Constable McColleague!

The term badge was centred on the Edinburgh and Lothians area, and being a North Lanarkshire Irishman from the Coatbridge area (your old N division) Id never heard of it until I worked there.

15 months as an emergency call handler, followed by 12 years as a bus driver, I finally gave up the working lark two years ago.

I also did 4 years on the building sites in Lanarkshire and Glasgow as a plumber, and a year as a bus conductor in Glasgow before I joined the navy, so had very many dealings with the public in that time, some of which were memorable, others less so.

I could write a book, but Ive not got enough years left.

Keep smiling in the Breton sunshine. We came back from Greece in May to warmer weather in Scotland this year than we had when we were away!.
 
Hello Sally & John,

Oh, you two had it easy. I was the poor DTO who had to break legislation down into modular form and teach the relevant Police Powers within my Division.

To say that it was a thankless task is a huge understatement, especially as most officers bitterly resented learning new legislation. "P.A.C.E." and the subsequent "Criminal Attempts Act" were the toughest to teach, as they replaced the much stronger powers so beloved of our officers.

I always said that P.A.C.E. was unworkable, and I think that I have been proved right. Nevertheless, it was my duty to teach the Police Powers associated with these acts of parliament, which I did to the best of my ability. I didn't actually believe a damned word I was saying, and I think that may have come across in my lectures.

Those officers above the rank of Inspector were not required to attend, presumably because they were intellectually superior to those of us who were Inspector or lower. We know that isn't true, but don't tell them.

Evening All,

Stephen.
 
Sally, Sally, Sally,

Did you not learn the first rule of Policing? "Never Get Wet."

There are thousands of bolt-holes in which you can stay dry and relatively warm ........ you just have to know where they are.

Crime statistics nose-dive when it is bucketing down with rain, especially burglary. We used to say that "P.C. Rain" was on duty, so we would have a quiet night. Drunks don't tend to hang about on the streets when it is persistently raining, meaning that you didn't need to move them on.

I'm sure that you had your little hidey-holes to keep you warm and dry, and that getting wet was only an occasional imbuggerance when all else had failed.

Kindest Regards,

Stephen.
 
This one isn't too gory, so I thought it may be okay on this thread.

A large park with a large boating lake was the scene of a tragic/humorous occurrence.

A dog walker had spotted what she thought was a body bobbing around in the middle of a boating lake. It later transpired that her assumption was correct.

Though there were already five or six officers in attendance, I decided that I would go along to supervise the recovery. My very good friend Teddy had taken charge of the situation, and was about to instruct the most junior officer to wade out into the boating lake. As there was likely to be broken glass and other submerged obstacles, it was decided that he should leave his boots on.

Police Officers may, when the need arises, take and utilise anything which they may need to use in the line of duty. There was a boat-house very near by, containing about a dozen rowing boats. I suggested that we break the lock off the doors and launch a boat, which would reduce the danger of injury to any officers involved.

Teddy sat in the back of the boat, leaning on the ornate Victorian wrought iron work and smoking a cigarette. A young constable was rowing, and they soon had the body in tow behind the boat. When they were about ten yards away from the shore, a Police Photographer informed them that he wanted pictures of the deceased in the water. Teddy obliged by grabbing both shoulders of the corpse and lifting his head and shoulders out of the water.

This photograph, showing Teddy with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth, was still knocking about the station for many years after this incident.

Kind Regards,

Stephen.
 
Stephen,

Up here in the Borders we often had to use "Cross Border Powers", so we would get cops from Cumbria and Northumbria travelling over the border, arresting people, and processing them in our police stations using procedures under English Law. We did the same when we went south, although we used the rather more archaic Scottish Law, based as it is on the principles of ancient Roman Law. They stopped us throwing English suspects (and Christians) to the lions just before I joined the force so we had to make rather more use of papyrus and ink than most of we Scots are used to.

I well remember receiving a phone call at Hawick Police Office from one Constable Maurice Kitcatt (real name), Newcastle Central, asking us if we could go and arrest a female and take her to Hawick on suspicion of a theft committed in Scotswood Road, Newcastle upon Tyne. We were then to telephone him and he would come up and interview her. I explained that Scottish officers couldn't arrest anybody for a crime committed in England and he would have to attend and effect the arrest himself. He would also be required to bring such documentation with him which would allow the procedure to comply with P.A.C.E. , which never applied in Scotland.

Two hours later a Northumbria Police "riot van" arrived in Hawick with Maurice and two female officers. We took them to the suspect's address where they arrested her, and we had to make arrangements with social workers to have the suspect's child looked after during the arrest and subsequent interview. Four hours later they departed back to Newcastle, having charged the female with stealing a pair of curtains from her previous rented accommodation, and were taking her back to Newcastle to appear in court the next day.

No fewer than 7 police officers, a social worker, and a foster carer, were involved in that incident.

Now I don't really know what P.A.C.E. is, but the same situation could never have occurred the other way around. If she had stolen the curtains in Scotland, and subsequently moved to England, we would have had to obtain a warrant for her arrest, providing the local "procuratorem fiscalem", was in agreement. In Scotland the police are directed by the procurator fiscal to investigate crime, and if he/she directs "facere aliquid non opus", then no further action it is. The theft of a pair of curtains would not have justified the despatch of three police officers to Newcastle, from a town where we only had 6 officers on duty at any given time.

So remember, as soon as you cross that border, you are in the Rome of 2000 years ago. Just don't get caught driving after one pint that you'll get away with in England. We ancient Romans are pretty hot on "biberunt incessus" (drunk driving).

If you're lucky a friendly officer, who is minus the necessary corroboration required under Roman Law, might tell you to about turn and "reverteretur ad protinus Anglia" (go back across to England immediately and take your chances there).

One thing you'll definitely not hear anywhere near the Border is Gaelic (our so called cultural and historic language), although you'll see it on road signs.

The motto of my school was "Laborare est Orare", which we took to mean "If you can't manage Latin, you've no chance with Gaelic!"
 
If I were to show up with my "piece" it would mean I have a gat.

You're welcome,
Waldo
 
WaldoW post_id=61499 time=1532928791 user_id=1663 said:
If I were to show up with my piece it would mean I have a gat.

Youre welcome,
Waldo

Waldo,

Knew it would be a pistol or revolver, but had to look up gat, where Id never have made the connection.

I thought it might be short for Gatling Gun, which here in Scotland we took the liberty to alter to Gatling Gub, a term used to refer to a person who talks incessantly at high volume. The word Gub, being slang for English gob or mouth.

Regarding English speaking forums, I dont think there is a worse lingua franca. Here in the UK the dialect changes every few miles, and we often have difficulty understanding people from the next town.

When I lived in the Glasgow area, we all called it Glass-go. Now it has become Glaz-go, without having ever moved an inch.

In Scotland the usual meaning of a piece is a bread sandwich, with any type of filling. Cheese and jam were the two main fillers when I was young, but there is more variety now.

So if somebody asks you if you would like a piece in Scotland, they mean a piece or slice of bread with a filling of your choice.

In the next town 20 miles south of us, nearer the English border, the word piece becomes replaced by the North of England word bait, but the two are not interchangeable. You wont be asked if youd like a bait, as it doesnt make sense.

The word piece can also refer to a packed lunch which doesnt have to contain any bread at all. What have you got for your piece today? The wife just gave me the curry I never ate last night.

The English word bait means exactly the same, and in those circumstances the words are in fact interchangeable.

Its great fun living in Scotland, as we need to have two different vocabularies just to speak to people 20 miles away. We end up having to memorise a whole lot of words that are effectively of no use whatsoever outside of Scotland, and thats why we have a hell of a job speaking English in a manner that people can understand. Where Im originally from there is a barrowload (truckload) of Irish dialect English words in everyday use as well, and it all gets rather complicated.

So I know what a gat is, and hopefully youll now know what a piece is.

Piece be with you, as long as its not thrown from the window of a 20 storey apartment! We have a song about that very eventuality!
 
Morne post_id=61509 time=1532952628 user_id=1217 said:
Since paddling pools filled with water are now considered dangerous in case a burglar drowns, wouldnt that make the rain a health and safety risk too?

I mean, if an officer saw a fellow with a TV-shaped bulge under his tattered rags running in the rain, would he be held liable in case the man caught a cold because the police issued coat was leaky?

Hi Morne,

Looks like its heading that way, at least in England. Pretty much everybody has to take the utmost care not to maim or kill a burglar there it seems.

We dont have burglars in Scotland, so theres no real worry (theyre called housebreakers here). Even if they break into commercial premises they commit the crime of housebreaking.

Arsonists are called fireraisers, and if you break into a (locked) car you commit the crime of Opening a Lockfast Place.

It often seems that nobody has bothered to update some of our Scottish laws since Roman times, as the terminology can be a bit archaic, and we still make use of Latin terminology. Its still an offence to feed a Christian to the lions on a Sunday, but I dont think there have been any prosecutions for that for a year or two now.

Why do we not just use English Law in Scotland?

Various people have written tomes on the matter, but basically the ancient association between the old Scottish and French royal families ensured that a French version of Roman Law has been maintained in Scotland throughout. Scotland has continued to prefer a legal system based on the practices of continental Europe over the English system, and thats about it. We used to also have elements of Celtic Law and Scandinavian Law, some fragments of which are still current today in the more far flung corners.

The Channel Islands, which were once a part of France, also have their own continental legal systems, although Jersey has a different legal system from Guernsey, Alderney, and Sark. There are a lot of swimming pools owned by the rich people of the Channel Islands, and I dont think any of the Greffiers (chief magistrates) on any of the islands would worry too much about drowning the odd cambrioleur (burglar), who most likely wouldnt be an islander anyway.

I had to go to college with cops from the Channel Islands and got to learn quite a bit about their respective legal systems.
 
StargazerTony post_id=61520 time=1532963004 user_id=2434 said:
Getting back to late for work excuses, how about: my dog ate my accordion and now barks in musette, annoying my neighbors.

Hi Tony,

Yes it did go way off the beaten track again (at the second post!), and I think your post is only the second one that actually mentions being late for work.

If that scenario would make you late for work, then why not?
 
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