Watched too much Rain Man as a kid. Obsessed with numbers and perfect order. Their home is a release from it all and needs regular fumigation.
Uses everything in the office to meet the demands of life. Turns into a hornball when looking at the stationary catalogue. Rings long lost relatives from the office phone. Knows about everything in the place and it falls apart if they aren’t there.
Does all the nasty things a nurse is too stuck up to do.
Has no social life. Has lost the sense of smell due to the aroma of Guinness Arse. Has also gone deaf from loud music. Can’t hear what you want to order and gives you the wrong drink.
Always talks about boxing because hair styling is a mainly feminine vocation.
Former millbag with no communication skills. Sees their backstreet broom cupboard as a luxury spa. It isn’t.
Black Taxi Driver
Owns the road. Anyone with any problems with that statement will be met with a wheel brace.
Doesn’t know what indicators are. Tries his best to flip a double decker over so he can blame it on the top heavy design and go off sick. Throws a strop if paid with a fiver for the journey.
Is an animal in bed. The smell of raw meat gets his juices flowing.
Call Centre Operative
Hates their job. Answers every call with a sarcastic tone. Rubbish at explaining things. Makes callers feel like crap for even ringing. When on outbound campaigns, the call centre operative only works during dinner time and during Eastenders.
Can’t even go to the Kelstar for a pastie bap without having to critique the cooking method and presentation. A pain in the ass at barbeques.
Child Minder/Childcare worker
Eternal kid at heart. Sings nursery rhymes when doing the dishes. Lives in la-la land. Has no adult friends.
Failed at their Broadway audition, now has a local dance troupe and rules it with an iron fist. Has beaten up kids.
Civil Servant/Clerical Officer
Always out on the sick or outside having a smoke. Takes the upholding of public funds very seriously but leaves the lights on in the office before going home for the weekend.
Thinks they are the teacher, but probably better at the job because their brain is similar to a childs. Sips vodka during playground duty.
Is only working in the job as recommended therapy for OCD. When not cleaning, they are drinking. Sells stolen gear in the workplace. Shifty individuals.
Has the ability to sugar coat everything to make it sound good.
Unemployed – See Taxi Driver
Was Hitler in a past life. Hates all drunk males. Only in the job because he can feel up girls when they are blocked.
Sits around the corner from your house and waits for you to leave. Attempts delivery.
Too ugly to get a girlfriend so started DJing instead. Now has a girlfriend who is out of his league.
Only in the job because their parents forced them into it. Trained in the NHS and employed by the NHS but prioritises work life to suit private patients.
Unemployed – See Taxi Driver
Not even a proper job. An excuse to be a fat bastard.
Fork Lift Driver
Former hood. Got licence through the Probation Board on the condition he wouldn’t steal any more cars.
Is secretly popping valium for their nerves because the plane you have just boarded has a number of safety flaws.
Full time Mummy
Thinks raising kids is hard. Not cut out for the workplace. Will cry and go to the European Court of Human Rights if forced into work. Sees moderating Facebook groups as a career. Has dabbled in Ann Summers and Avon.
Is unemployed but looking for work. Destined to end up in an underpaid job that requires none of the skills they studied so hard for.
Serial gossiper. Knows the news before the newspapers do. Starts rumours and then denies it when confronted.
Thinks being camp is a personal attribute for the job. Is borderline straight but will have to work as a barber if it’s too evident. Doesn’t know enough about boxing to be a barber.
When not at work, spends all other time on Trip Advisor posting good reviews about themselves in order to get a raise.
Brow beaten wimp
Watches a lot of Jeremy Kyle, This Morning and Loose Women. Sleeps at midday. Jumps up and pretends to clean as soon as husband puts key in the door.
Bumps their mates up the waiting list in exchange for pints.
Agoraphobic internet nerd who ballses up your computer and then charges you for the pleasure. Has no social skills and shops online because crowds freak them out.
Sets an agenda and copies facts from the internet to reinforce an opinion. Serial arse licker who isn’t to be trusted.
Make Up Artist
Thinks they are gorgeous. Isn’t. Cannot tell the difference between terracotta and beige.
Also a former hood doing an NVQ through the Probation Board. Knows everything about your car because he tried to steal it. That’s why it’s at the mechanic.
Talks a load of keek and uses the word ‘eclectic’ too much. Constant freeloader who hangs around parties networking with likeminded bullshitters.
Failed beautician. Sniffs nail glue in between customers.
Can diagnose a condition by smell. Hates know it all junior doctors. Can have a discussion about dihorrea during lunch without boking.
Never lets you see what they are looking at on their computer screen. Always scheming ways to get out of the office. Sets up phantom meetings so they can go into town and buy bras from Primark.
Phone shop worker
Reads your messages when you bring your phone in to get fixed. Goes through your internet history even though you think you have deleted it. Greets you with a sly smile when you pick up your fixed phone. Hasn’t done a thing with it, it’s still banjaxxed.
Has ADHD. Can’t have a conversation without being distracted by something they saw. Can’t find a photograph they took of you when you wanted it but if you die in a horrific accident they will sell it to the newspapers in a flash.
Hard to get a hold of. Cries out for work but when they get a job they don’t show up. Drives taxis when out of work and signs on the rest of the time.
Works for half the year and takes the other half off sick on full pay. Looks forward to a riot.
Dying breed. Job too risky. Now comes with danger money.
Unofficial child minder. Plays a lot of Candy Crush and Flappy Bird. Has a racist tendency.
Farts around without doing any actual work.
Thinks she’s the boss. Knows about everything and everyone. Tells company secrets during tea break. She’s the office mixer and starts all the fights.
Doesn’t care if you lost your child, you should have been keeping an eye on them. Spends most of the time on the CCTV booth zooming in on women’s chests instead of catching thieves.
The customer is never right. The shop assistant hates anyone who attempts to poke their nose in the door half an hour before closing. The shutters are down two inches for a reason.
Constantly turning away cheapskates who want to haggle or throw the money in later. Believes in shopping local and lectures everyone on it but buys groceries in the big three supermarkets.
Treats every performance like it’s an Xfactor audition. Practises air grabbing in the mirror.
Argues about everything. Is able to find loop holes in the smallest places. Serverely dodgey bastard. A good friend to pretend to like.
No good at anything yet. Still finding themselves. Will never have a job. Working ruins their spirit.
Takeaway phone answerer
Doesn’t need to make dinner. Gets paid in grub.
Only in the job because they were made redundant from something else they were no good at. Hates all passengers. Has considered sexual favours in exchange for fares.
Only works half of the year. Has leather skin from all the foreign holidays. Whinges a lot.
Tells random untrue stories and doesn’t stick around to be told otherwise.
Loves a good strike. Only goes to junkets with a free bar. Will knock your baleeks in.
More like a troublemaker. This tout will get you sacked. If a trouble-shooter is called in, contact your union immediately.
Spits in your food when you send it back