Who's speaking

Confessions of a Squash Court Manager

Episode 27
who's speaking

Well it's been a while since I've had reason to put pen to computer to share an incident that has happened to me as the manager of the Corleone Squash Center. 

However my zen place was shattered today, not by an in the flesh customer, but by an over the phone dickhead.

I get a call about 1pm from a player from a rival club who was coming to Corleone Squash Center to play one of our teams tonight in the local pennant league.

The reason for the call was to advise me that his team were forfeiting.They were probably scared shitless of the beating our team was going to give them... Corleone Squash Center players have that shit themselves affect on opposition teams.

Anyway, all was going well until out of the blue he asks, "who's speaking, is this that moron who calls himself the Squash godfather?" It wasn't so much that he called me a moron, it was the tone in his voice that got my hackles up. Plus..I lie, NO ONE CALLS ME A MORON!

"Yes.... this is the Squash godfather" I replied, barely able to get the words out through my gritted teeth.
"Are you aware there's a lot of people out there who think you're a real dick head.?" He said, with an edge of smugness now in his voice.

"Do YOU know there's also a lot of arse holes out there, and even dumber arse holes who listen to them?"
I replied, answering a question with a question. What normal person says things like this over the phone to a complete stranger...A fucking drop kick, that's who.
"Well they all can't be wrong can they.... Squash godfather?"  He persisted, sounding very irritated in have his misguided self righteousness challenged.

"You're obviously hanging around with too many fuckwits my friend. Maybe it's time you took your head out of your arse and venture out into the real world."  I said, maintaining a sense of professionalism.

"What the, who do you think, you can't speak." This idiot was so flabbergasted he couldn't get the words out of his dopey mouth.
"Bye bye dick head," I said, then quietly hung up the phone.

Game, set and match, Squash Godfather!!

Good squashing

Squash Godfather

No one told me!

Confessions of a squash court manager

episode 26

No one told me !

Oh fuck, I thought to myself, when I looked out into the carpark of the Corleone Squash Centre and saw who was headed my way. This guy has been an arsehole every time he's entered my squash centre, and I wasn't expecting anything different from him today.
Once an arsehole always an arsehole; Squashgodfathers creedo!
.

"I want a court for an hour," he says, no hows your life?, kiss my arse or anything, just give me a court..........
Yes he's still an areshole!

"No problem, twenty five dollars and she's all yours," I answered, trying to stay calm.

"No,no, no, I'm a member, so it's cheaper!" He said, this time yelling.

"You were a member but that expired 6 months ago, so today it's twenty five dollars." I said.

"No one told me it was only for 12 months, I thought it was a life membership." He spat.

This guys is one of those very rare creatures who really is as dumb as he looks.

"Your fucking joking, surely?" I said, hoping to see a sign of laughter in his eyes, there wasn't.
"Life membership for a hundred and fifty bucks, give me a break." I was trying not to laugh in his face as that would really piss him off.

'I'm not paying full price, I should have been told that it wasn't a life membership."

"Like it or lump it mate, those light ain't going on till you give me get twenty five dollars, and if you keep pissing me off they wont be going on at all."
"I will pay when I finish," he said heading off around to the courts.

"No way, no how. Money NOW or fuck off." He turns around and throws his credit card at me.
Kerching, another twenty five bucks into my rocket.

Another happy customer

Good squashing

Squash godfather

where's the body

Confessions of a squash court manager

episode 25

where's the body

It had been a lovely day at the Corleone Squash Center, a nice flow of  non whinging customers happily throwing money at the squash godfather, in the name of good health. Life couldn't be better.

Anyway, a group of 3 middle aged guys walked in and asked about booking a court.

"No problem guys show me twenty five dollars and your in business." I said. They handed over the cash and trotted around to court 4. 

The place was fairly busy, people wandering into the dunny or around to the kitchen to pinch a free drink out of the tap rather than fork out a measly three dollars fifty for a bottle of water.

I came out of the back store room with an armful of drinks and headed over to top up the fridge.

I noticed one of the guys who had recently come in, a fat, bald, lardish type standing next to it with a strange sort of satisfied, peaceful look on his piggy face.
Turns out it was the look  of  pure satisfaction from a job well done, as the dirty prick had just dropped his guts...BIG TIME! Or it may have been the look of sheer relief, that he had not actually shat himself. Either way, I had walked straight into a massive invisible cloud of shit...FAARK.

The stench was so vile my legs almost buckled from under me, "what the fuck have you done here mate?"  I yelled, desperately trying not to inhale a mouth full of shit.

He took off without answering me around to his court, dragging the dead stinking carcass that was hanging out his ass with him. Filthy prick.

As luck would have it a couple of young birds walk in and I could tell by the look on their faces the shit cloud had hit them. Who am I kidding, Mat Damon could smell this fucking thing up there on mars!
If it had been a couple of blokes walking in I would have puffed out my chest out and proudly claimed it as my own. But my vanity kicked in, "sorry about the stink ladies, I think the fat, bald prick on court 3 is actually dead, or at least he's dead on the inside."

some more satisfied customers

good squashing 

squash godfather

That's a rip off

Confessions of a squash court manager

Episode 24

That's a rip off

Thursdays, my favorite day of the week. I finish early, head to the golf course and give my old my mate fossil a lesson in the finer arts of the game of golf, and it's also the start of my well deserved 3 day weekend....Oh I do love Thursdays. 

So it takes a lot to piss me off on a Thursday, but shit happens!

"Hi guys how are you going on this lovely Thursday?" I asked the two guys who had just entered the Corleone Squash Center.

"How much to hire a court?" asked,(lets call him number one), in a tone that said I'm an arsehole...stay calm squash godfather...it's Thursday remember.

"Twenty five dollars," I replied.

"Give us a court for an hour", number one said. No please or thanks, just a kiss my arse attitude.
He throws over the money, "cheers guys go down to court three." I said

They headed off  around to the courts, but were back at the counter a few minutes later, attitude written all over their dopey faces. Here we go I thought.

"Where's the gear?" asked, (lets call him number two) with the same lovely manners as his mate number one.

"What gear?" I asked, trying to pretend I didn't know the bloody obvious...just to piss them off.

"The fucking racquets and ball," he said, clearly agitated now.

"Oh that gear. Well if you haven't got your own you will have to hire it from me." I said, trying not to smile.

"How much will that cost?"  he asked.

"Twenty one dollars, and you get to keep the ball. What a bargain Hey?" I said.

"Bargain, that's a bloody rip off." They yelled in unison.

"Well tough titties. That,s the price, like it or fucking lump it." I said, bracing for a verbal onslaught.

But no, to my amazement number one threw the money at me, and said "Give us the bloody gear even though its a fucking rip off." I hand over two racquets and a ball and once again away they went.

Fuck me, what now, number two was back waving two bottles of water at me, "where can I put these to get them cold?" he asked.

"How's about the fridge in your kitchen at home?" I said.

"What about this one?" he said, pointing to my two door drinks fridge, standing there in all its chilly glory.

"Sorry mate, it cost money to keep that air cold. Why don't you take those drinks home and buy a couple of icy cold ones off me?" I said, with a content written all over my face.

"This place is a bloody rip off." he said again. Then once again stormed around to the courts..hopefully for the last time.

Two more happy customers..

Good squashing

Squash godfather

thats outrageous

                                                    Confessions of a squash court manager
                                                                         Episode 23

That's outrageous

There I was having a lovely Tuesday morning, soaking up the sweat and stale beer smells wafting from the club room carpets at the Corleone Squash Centre.

My peace was interrupted when an old, not Fossil old, but mid sixties old, comes in brandishing a badminton racquet. I hate restringing these flimsy excuses for racquets, give me a tennis or squash racquet, they take some breaking.

"do you restring badminton racquets?"  The elderly fellow asked, pointing to an obviously broken string. 

Strange, I thought I'd taken my sunnies off, why else would he think that I was fucking blind!!

"yes I do" I answered, " But with two non negotiable conditions." One, due to the possibility of internal fractures, if the racquet breaks during restringing it's bad luck. Two, it must be paid for upfront, no refunds." Tough but fair is the squash godfathers motto.

"How much." He asked.

"Forty dollars." I said.

I could almost see the cogs ticking in the old guys head desperately trying to scramble a sentence together, old age isn't it fucking wonderful?

"That's outrageous!" He finally managed to spit out. " How can you possibly justify charging such an outrageous price?" He screamed. 

I feel an episode coming on for this old prick, I mean, two outrageousness in the one sentence.

Taken by surprise by his sudden change from elder statesman to angry old prick, I was almost lost for words......almost!

" How much do you usually pay." I asked, still in shock, but recovering fast.

"I've never had a restring before, this is the first." He said, in a much milder tone, probably noticing the steam coming from my ears.

" Well how the hell can you tell me my price is outrageous? Like it or fucking lump it granddad."

I said, trying desperately to maintain my cool calm demeanour.

"I'll think about it," he said walking backwards towards the door.

Another happy customer

Good squashing

Squash godfather 

4 minutes

confessions of a squash court manager

Episode 22

4 minutes

I was having a hit later today, and as I had been having a bit of calf trouble I dropped into the local chemist warehouse to purchase a pressure bandage...How hard could it be?

The doors opened at the local Chemist Warehouse at 8.30 am, I walked through the doors at 8.32, first customer of the day....where's my early morning discount?
They had no calf bandages but I thought a knee one would do the job, the only size was large, must be like condoms..one size fits all.

I went to the check out and was greeted by a slightly dim looking elderly Italian woman, full of good cheer and happiness, NOT.
"G'day love just  these thanks". I said, handing over the bandage and some hair wax; to keep the silver locks looking their best! " How much is the Polo Ralph after shave?" I asked.
" $29 for the small, $69 for the large," grunted dimmy.

I paid for my stuff and left the store. Just outside I sat on a chair in the food hall opposite and tried the bandage on for size, Just in case. Shit it was to big. I had thrown the receipt in a very large, very deep bin in the food hall, but as I had just purchased it and had the bag, how wrong could I go?

I walked back into the store and as dimmy was busy I went to one of the assistants,
"Hi, I just purchased this bandage and it's too big, I would like to swap it for one of the elbow braces please." I asked in my most pleasant manner.

"Do you have the receipt?" she asked

"No I threw it in the bin,out there," I said, pointing out to the food hall.

"I'm sorry, but we do need the receipt to ensure that you actually did buy it from here." she said, sounding rather smug.

"Hang on, its in the original box, in a chemist warehouse bag, and it was only 4 fucking minutes ago. Lets check with the old Italian duck on the check out who served me, she'll remember me for sure."
I was getting annoyed.

We went over to dimmy, and the assistant asked, "Hey Marilyn do you remember selling this bandage and wax to this guy earlier this morning?"
Dimmy looked at me then at the 2 products.
"No I don't recall selling those or him" she said.

"What are you talking about, I bought them four bloody minutes ago, AND I asked you the price of the Polo aftershave, $29 for the small, $69 for the large, you told me." I was about to blow my stack!

"I'm sorry sir, I don't remember serving you."

"OK, wheres the camera, this must be a joke or a funniest home videos set up, surely, no one could be that bloody dopey." I asked. No reaction, this was real.

"This is crazy, I literally bought it  4 fucking minutes ago, what are you a gold fish?" Now I was really pissed!

"Where's the manager." I asked....yes, I pulled the old, wheres the manage card... I had to!

The assistant raced to the safety of the back office, returning several minutes later looking very relieved."We have checked the sales for the morning and found the record of your purchase,you may swap it over." she said, in a thank god lets get this fucker out of here tone
Great they were able to trawl through all 5 transactions to find mine...well done.

Good squashing
squash godfather

The Nut Case

Confessions of a squash court manager

episode 21

The Nut Case

Well who would have thought me, the squash godfather could instill so much anger and hostility in a person...I use the word person very loosely when talking about this nut case.

Mrs squash godfather and I went  for my weekly torture session at our local squash centre. Upon arrival I noticed playing on one of the courts was the nut case, he had recently lost a bet to me, so I tapped on the glass and said, "don't forget to give me that lotto ticket before you leave."
He immediately burst into an expletive laden tirade that I would have been very proud of, and stormed off the court.

"You fucking cheap good looking bastard," 

Despite his anger he couldn't help but notice the obvious, he's only human.

"You fucker, you owe me fifty bucks." he said as he swung his racquet toward my face,NOT THE FACE!

He was pushing and trying to grab me, and thinking he was about to whack me, my inner Jack Reacher kicked in. (For people unfamiliar with Jack Reacher, he is author Lee Childs famous one man wrecking crew character, amiably played by Tom Cruise in the movie REACHER.)
I digress, if I faked left then moved right I could land a crushing blow with my right elbow into his left cheek smashing teeth, splitting lips and tongue, very effective.
Or I could  leg sweep him at the same time pushing him full force in the chest, sending him crashing backwards, winded onto the floor, cracking  his skull and rattling his obvious peanut sized brain,  nasty but nice.If you get my drift.
Alternatively I could launch myself with extreme propulsion from my massive thighs and land a flying head butt smack into the middle of his fucking ugly face, crushing facial bones and  if possible making him even uglier. Nice option!

In the end I opted for my most effective weapon. I gave him my meanest stare and told him to act his fucking age not his penis size. Works every time. 

The squash godfather is a lover not a fighter.

Good squashing

squash godfather