Tales from terrible student summer jobs: The W@nker on the van

Bruce Hornsby and the range boomed out again over the loudspeakers. "That's the way it is, some things will never change." It was the fifth time that GWR had played the song and it certainly didn't help time pass on the night shift; still, it was better than the endless phone-ins.

3AM in the warehouse somewhere in Swindon, 1985; Vacuum cleaners, fridges and spin dryers stacked higher than a house; a Manhattan made of white goods.

I'm in the back of van with Colin and my acne, waiting for Brian to return with a forklift full of electrical appliances. Silence. More silence.

At last, after three hours of pretending I wasn't there, Colin waves Brian away and fixes me with a stare.

"So d'yer s'pport the Town then?".

Surprised by Colin's sudden burst of conversation I nervously reply:

"Well I've seen them once or twice I think. Ummmm it may have been two nil against Bristol City, oh no Halifax. Yes"

Colin's says nothing, but stares at me, a huge pregnant pause. After what seems like eternity, and with perfect timing, Brian returns with another load; without moving his gaze Colin shouts over his shoulder:

"Brian! I THINK WE'VE GOT A W@NKER ON THE VAN".