Chris Pascoe’s Fun Tales

Chris chats about his old job with a dodgy courier company

I’ve had many rubbish jobs down the years but one job, never before mentioned in this column, was for a less than salubrious courier company. Without much money and rarely in possession of competent drivers, this company bumbled along for two inglorious years with an ever-changing ragtag staff, one of whom, either as driver or controller, was always me.

The main problem was that they were always so short of drivers the standard interview was probably something along the lines of:

“Are you a careful driver?” “No.”

“Would you say you were a good driver, though?”

“I’m definitely better than people say.”

“I like your cardigan. You’re in.”

One of the drivers was a well-meaning, charming, and totally stupid lad named Darren.

A testament to my summary of Darren occurred in a pub named The Bell. Being an on-duty driver for a courier company, Darren definitely shouldn’t have been in there, let alone having a pint. I spotted him when I walked in (also on duty but only in for a coke, I promise) and he sauntered over to say hello. At that moment his phone rang - it was our boss. Realising Darren would be fired if he admitted he was in a pub, I shouted, “Don’t say you’re in here!”

“Here?” he said, with a half-smile, “In The Bell?”

“Yes!” I answered, as quickly as I could, “It’s company policy!”

Darren answered, and the boss inevitably asked his whereabouts.

With a big grin and a conspiratorial wink, he replied “I’m in The Firmament & Firkin…I’m having a beer with Chris Pascoe.”

That’s how much explaining every single thing needed with Darren. So, none of the following, prior to our instant

They were a less than salubrious courier company

dismissal that day (and subsequent re-employment because we were the last two drivers left) should come as any surprise:

On being told it was vital that some boxes be delivered in Cheltenham within 3 hours, Darren set off on the journey, which should have taken about 90 minutes, and it did take exactly 90 minutes…to arrive in Chelmsford, not Cheltenham, which is in the opposite direction. Now, having used half his time, and an hour and a half left on his deadline, Darren found himself 3 hours from his destination. It didn’t matter though, because a couple of minutes later, somebody noticed the boxes were still in our warehouse. Darren had just driven 90 minutes in the wrong direction with an empty van. Thanks to Darren’s total incompetence, the boxes arrived with seconds to spare.

On another occasion, he had to deliver a vital envelope relating to a deal worth hundreds of thousands of pounds. On arrival, the recipient was stunned to discover Darren had tucked it behind his windscreen wiper for the entire journey.

Apparently, he wanted to “keep an eye on it”.