Cannibalism in the workplace

Tomorrow's canteen menu includes the delights of the minced lamb donna kebab.

Poor Donna.

Still, it's what she would have wanted.

The benefit of the doubt

Every morning at about 8:55 as the platform at my station starts to get busy, a pre-recorded announcement is played over the tannoy to the effect that anybody physically or verbally abusing the train company's staff will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law, or words to that effect.

And I wonder, what happened to the assumption that passengers wouldn't gratuitously start assaulting people in uniform?

That's not to say that most First Crapital Connect staff don't richly deserve to be smacked about a bit.

A similar bug seems to have taken hold of the local police down in the Deepest South London Suburb where I work. This lunchtime as I was pounding the pavements in search of my usual six-inch sub of the day on Italian herb I spied a notice tacked to the station entrance, warning me that I was in a Designated Public Place so I had Better Not Think of doing Anything Naughty.

Which I thought had been the case the minute I closed my front door this morning.