Owned by a 250-Pound Dinnerlady.

Kangy

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Or, as they like to call themselves, "lunchtime supervisors".

Pfft, so much for that.

Waiting in line at my school, for entrance into the dinner hall about 5 minutes before I can actually start getting my food, about 70 immature wankers start trying to push in, and shoving from the back if they don't.

The "lunchtime supervisor" does **** all, and I kind lose my temper.

Me (to friend): Aren't they meant to be y'know, doing what it says on the goddamned lable, instead of doing exactly the opposite?

She immediately takes me down to my office, and for no reason, the friend I was telling. Then, my friend makes another mistake.

Friend (to me): I wouldn't worry. In 6 months time, I'll be more qualified AND richer than she'll ever be.

-----

After a bollocking in the office, I loosely escape a phone call to the parents.

Things to learn from this experience:

Never, ever, insult a pleb, until you are actually richer and more qualified.
 
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