How restrained am I?

Very fucking restrained as it happens. Not that you're believing it though. I put it to you that I am extremely restrained in what I actually say to my customers (compared to what's going round the fetid sewer that I call my brain). Still not convinced?

Exhibit A

One of my regulars came in this afternoon and started prattling on about his granddaughter. First of all, I didn't point out that being as he appears to be gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide, I'm amazed that he has a granddaughter. Secondly, I didn't tell him that I don't really care that much. Just because I'm friendly, it doesn't mean I'm your friend. I'm only being friendly so you'll come back and spend more money. Finally, and this is the part that took real restraint on my part, he mentioned that his granddaughter is studying civil engineering. Although I thought it immediately and grinned to myself I didn't then say,


"I bet she'll be responsible for a lot of erections."

Boom-Boom.

This did actually happen by the way and isn't just an excuse to recycle an old joke.

If you're still not convinced that I can actually keep my trap shut here's some supporting evidence:

I've never said to my female colleagues when they've been bending over with their heads near my nadgers "While you're down there love."

I've never told the dirty smelly gypsies to have a fucking wash.*

I didn't take the piss out of one of my colleagues who tried to pay a cheque into his account but forgot to put a paying in slip in his sealed envelope. What a twat!

I've never told any of the dole scroungers to get a fucking job.

I've never said "well that was fucking stupid wasn't it?" when confronted with stupidity from customers.

I've never told a customer that I don't want to hear about their inane bloody life in excruciating detail on and on and on while the queue builds up and up and up and could they please shut up and fuck off?

Nearly all of the above examples I've wanted to do a few times every fucking day. And yet, after years of working behind the Post Office counter I've so far succeeded in keeping schtum. Only once have I given in to an urge to be a bit rude and that was pretty tame. A smelly pensioner needed to fill in a form. I coached him through all of it and asked him to sign the bit at the bottom. My patience was wearing thin due to the smell, the sheer time it had taken and the number of times I'd had to repeat myself when he asked me,

"What, my signature?"

I flipped.

"Well of course your bloody signature. You can't put someone else's signature there can you?"

*In case anyone thinks that this terminology is discriminatory, then you should come here and smell them. They are dirty and they do smell. I've never felt the urge to shout at the non-smelly, clean gypsies. So there.