| Joerg
Otto Meier
Portaits
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Fish cook, 54 years January 1989 |
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»I never beat around the bush. Some people bite their tongues and then they end up getting stomach cramps. I also tell the boss hes an arse-hole.« |
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Except: There used to be two of us working nights. I remember once I wanted to park out the front, but some tart wouldnt let me in. Theyre always hanging about here. She told me to bugger off, reckoned that was her spot. I says: Are you nuts? Im parking here! You know what she did? She came in here with five other cows, all armed with umbrellas and the two of us were standing here frying fish. They wanted to charge us with their umbrellas. So Leila took a crate and I grabbed the hose. I says: If you come any closer, Im turning the hose on youse! I would have turned the cold water on full blast and that was in winter. They never tried that one on again. And then I wanted to know who told them where we worked. It turned out it was a colleague! I really gave him a piece of my mind! We didnt speak to each other for a year. You deceitful bastard, I says, coming in here with five tarts, and all of you wielding huge umbrellas and the two of us standing here like a couple of ninnies! But Leila wasnt chicken, she chased them with a wooden crate and wanted to smash it over their heads. But the tarts who are here now are all quite nice. They come in here at night and fetch a plaice or a fish-ball and theyre big tippers. But there are a few crazy ones as well. The new one, the one in the pants-suit, shes pretty cheeky. Ive already told Hilde about her. I told her: Im going to tell that one a thing or two, the cheeky cow! One of her customers just stopped right in the middle of the street. And do you reckon I could get through? I waited for ages while he was bargaining with her and the line of cars was getting longer and longer. I flashed my lights at her and the old cow comes running up to my car and abuses me, and how, I tell you: You stinking cunt! Thats what she said. Well, anyway, I should basically go on working here for another six years, but at the moment I cant see myself stopping when Im 60. I dont think Id like that. I have six weeks holidays, but when theyre over, I just have to get back here. I miss it somehow. I dunno. And the main thing is, when Im not here, all you hear is: Wheres Inge? Wheres Inge? ...
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