In the 90's, i did a stint with a very well known tyre outlet... met some great folks and some lemon's as well.
Anyway, an old workmate i bumped into the other day, reminded me of this story from back then..... geez it was funny at the time. (I still laugh about it)
We had a guy that worked with the two of us and he was a shocker for knocking off food and drink. You'd have a half a can of coke on the back desk, and it walks (Let's call him Steve) Steve and bingo, you now have no coke left.
Apart from that, he was the best i've ever seen at dodging hard work or anything like it.
The crunch came one day, when one of the tyre fitters was going over to the food court for lunch. I asked him to get me a roast pork dinner and make sure she puts crackling in with it.
He left it on my desk and when i opened it, no crackling....
Hey Tony, didn't they have any crackling i asked.
Yeah, ya did, ya better ask Steve.
Numbnuts has opened my lunch, eaten the crackling and put the lid back on.
This was a typical thing for him to do. Hot chips, cold chips, hot dog, coke, you name it, he swiped it.
About a month later, i was over it and with easter coming, i've let everyone know what i was up to. I left a decent sized easter egg i'd broken into bits etc, sitting on a plate, along with a healthy dose of broken up laxette pieces.
I was happy to eat the egg bits, but sure enough, good old Steve comes along and hoovers up the lot. now this all happened around 10am or so, but by around lunch time, ol Steve's not looking quite so chipper.
He headed over to the food court, but on the way back......
One of the tyre fitters says, whats up with Steve and here he is, in the centre island at the lights, holding his guts with one hand and his lunch with the other.
The really sad part, was he made it back to the crapper ok. he looked a tad pale when he came out, but seemed ok.
So later in the day, we popped open another easter egg, laced the crap out of it again and waited.
Sure enough, ate the lot again.
At around 4:30 or so, one of the guys says, you know Steve is flying to Sydney tonight to see his folks, ya better tell him what you've done.
I really did want to tell him too, but i guess i just forgot or something.
It took weeks too, before i found out, yep, he sh!t his pants on the plane.
The story as told to me by one of the tyre fitters went like this, he thought he was crook, went to the crapper on the plane and all he did was let go with a fart that sounded like a stockwhip going off.
Went back to his seat and as the plane was landing, he thought he was gunna fart again and sh!t himself then and there.
When he found out what i'd done, he wasn't what i'd called pleased either.
A bit of yelling to and fro and i'm sure he wanted to land one on my chin, but he chose not too.... bit of a shame really.
