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shame about ray
Do I know you ? |
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i I knew a bloke in the 70s who always backed the Fav and wrote Fav on the slip. There was a 20 plus runner maiden at Newmarket with an Even money fav that got withdrawn just before the start, the bloke had a £10 win on the "fav" The market was reformed and they went 10/1 the field. He was going ape ** in the bookies, trying to get his bet cancelled and effin and jeffin at the staff when they wouldn't do it. The race went off and was won by the favourite at 10/1 you should have seen his face when he collected his winnings, he'd never seen a £100 in his life
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just got to this thread dont go in bookies very often now but might pop in a bit more to catch up with some of these loons brings back my youth in a back street betting shop in brum oh the good old days
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AM I TOO EARLY 29 Jul 00:12
'EAVY 'ANDED 'ARRY Takes 5 or 6 slips out of the dispenser and writes one bet out. All the other slips are knackered because he presses so hard with the pen. Can't move a chair without hitting somebodys shins with it. He pulled the chain from the khazi cistern once, came out and put it on the counter and said 'That's broke.' The funniest post ever ....sheer genius. :^0 :^0 |
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I have sad news of fans of this thread from the start.
'CRACKERJACK' who is on here somewhere, is seriously ill in hospital. I haven't heard what's actually wrong with him but it doesn't sound too good as he's probably in his mid-70s now. |
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'EAVY 'ANDED 'ARRY
iis from my old shop in east London, the same shop as CRACKERJACK. |
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Best wishes to CRACKERJACK, Big Charlie.
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LOL Reg
Crackerjack is Kenyan. |
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Brilliant thread. Intended to go to bed 2 hours ago - have been sat up reading this and laughing to myself the whole time!
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Sorry for your lack of sleep Glossy :)
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Great Thread this!
I manage a Korals, and this topic is so true about some of the people you see. |
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One thing I have to admire is the old boy that comes into the bookies, and either asks for a cup of tea, or picks up a plastic cup.
he looks at it for a few moments before going outside (despite not smoking) where he fills the cup up with Special Brew and walks back in, trying to pass the drink off as a cup of Tea/Coffee. It's comical, even better when you know you have not made him a drink, but ah well, if you are going to go to that much effort to bring in a cup of beer I suppose you should be allowed to drink it :D |
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Ive only read a couple but already ive been in stitches, some very funny stuff, ill read further :)
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Off the clock, Happy New beer to all the contributors, esp AITE
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Off the clock, Happy New beer to all the contributors, esp AITE
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AITE had a copy of this on his PC, which wasl lucky as BF pulled the original when the original thread starter got banned.
It looks like AITE posted them all, but they are real characters from shops all over the UK, posted by lots of different people on the original thread. |
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HENRY the Seventh 16 Aug 19:37
Greysuit Harry. Harry was what used to be termed: an "old lag". Somebody who is in and out of prison on a fairly regular basis - quite often for burglary of houses and shops, and other various petty stealing crimes, which in many ways, is his way of life. Usually none too bright, he would seldom move away from his own area, and is normally on friendly terms with the local policemen on the beat. A generally harmless type who would "come quietly" rather than put up a violent struggle if caught. Harry was one such type - called Greysuit Harry because that was what he always wore. Whether he caught them as a batch of the same size and colour as they fell off the back of a lorry is anyone`s guess. I remember one occasion when a local small electrical shop had been broken into one night, and the police had been alerted. They discovered that whoever broke the window had cut his hand. The trail of the drops of blood was followed down a side alley and into the entrance of an old woodmill. There, under a workbench was Harry, sleeping like a baby, and with a brand new kettle and toaster by his side. I think he got three months. Harry often lived rough - and often looked rough too. When he wasn`t "sleeping it off" somewhere - either in cells or some other form of shelter - one could guarantee he would be in one of two places: either in a pub, or in a betting shop. He was a magician in the pubs, always knowing which ones to go to when the crowds were there - darts night, snooker night, whatever. He got to know almost everybody, and he made sure strangers too would soon become acquainted. It has to be said that Harry was a scrounger of pints par excellance. During the evening he would move around from group to group, joining in the banter. Although a known scrounger, he was such a friendly and engageing fellow, with a big smile, warm personality and tales to tell, that there was always someone in each group who would fill Harry`s glass, even knowing that the favour would not be returned. It should be said, however, that if he had had a good day in the betting shop, then he was generous, almost to a fault. In the betting shops, he was quite amusing. If skint, he would enter very quietly and go straight to the form pages on the wall and spend long periods assessing the form, of which he was a very shrewd judge. He would then make it his business to give his opinions to punters who he knew had benefitted from his advice in the past - in fact they were usually keen to know what Harry`s opinions were. If successful, he would often be given the odd couple of quid, and sometimes a fiver. The funniest bit would be if he was flush with cash - especially on a Saturday. Harry would come through the betting shop door in really ebullient style - everyone had to know he had arrived. He had just come from the pub and was quite well oiled. He would go straight to the table in the middle of the shop where he would deposit his money - and there it would stay for the duration of the afternoon. There would usually be a few fivers, lots of pound notes and a mountain of change -all poured on to the table very noisily. Harry had a strange ritual if he was doing well. He always came in with a big cigar lodged in his top jacket pocket. If towards the end of the day he was a long way in front and had just backed another winner, he would take the cigar out and peel off the wrapping. He would then stand near the middle of the shop, light up, and draw strongly on the cigar; he would then look upwards and blow huge rings of smoke up at the ceiling, probably through a feeling of elation combined with a momentary signal of triumph over adversity - maybe, deep down, there was a bit of primal virility mixed in there too. There were some dark days also, when the cashpile dwindled to nothing. Harry would then politely ask a regular who had had a good day to lend him enough money for "the first pint". His economic (drinking/betting) cycle would begin again, although the word begin is rather inapt, because there was no end or beginning to this cycle (apart from when being banged up), it was almost a continuum. I saw Harry limping along - and looking quite rough and old - as I drove through his home town a couple of years ago; it looked as though arthritis had got to him. I often think about him on freezing cold winter nights, and privately wish him well. A bit of a rogue, but a harmless and likeable one, who`s heart was always in the right place. andywef23i2gfhe4 16 Aug 21:53 . Perpetual 16 Aug 23:22 LONG NOSED BAR***RD this well tanned grey haired chap can be found in the aldershot area - loves a bet every race and annoyingly delights in keeping every winning bet till last knockings. every dog race "come on 4 come on 4 - hes got this - come on 4 - oh 4 fks sake - u stupid long nosed b@rstard" verbally abusing a greyhound - now come on mate !!! Aspro 16 Aug 23:58 RAY Things were quiet in the shop, when one summer evening Ray comes in. He was our biggest punter, and gets us concerned. This particular evening, my (usually silent) partner happens to be there, and he's given to worrying a bit at the best of times, so he's all a panic with Ray there, and Ray knows it! Ray has a couple of bets, and isn't winning, which is usually a signal to up the stakes a bit. Anyway my partner's indian (Ordered before Ray's entrance) arrived, He got a plate etc and sat at the table in the shop with the food spread out in front of him. He's about half way through his meal, when Ray stands between him and the main screen cheering the leading horse home, a 20/1 shot, and he's the only punter in the shop and he's cheering it home. My partner now in a state of abject panic leaps up sending indian food flying in all directions, spilling his curry all over himself, and says, in a shaking voice, "Ray. How much did you have on it?" Ray looks at him, and says. "Nothing, I didn't have a bet" ============================================================================== Taken from my own rare visit to a local bookies. Upon making conversation, there calculated money making system was fascinating. One particular favourite tip being to back Seb Sanders in yellow !. Bets ranging from £1-£5, and annoyingly finding more winners than me!! JOAN COLLINS back in the 80's when i worked for ******* a lady use to come in every lunchtime with her bets and sometimes used to pay by cheque, the first time I served her I thought it was a wind-up when I saw her name on the cheque . She owned 2 quite large hotels and was obviously very wealthy and liked to live up to her namesake by dressing in a ' dynasty ' style. She used to do pontoon and mag . 7 bets and one day [Sat, glorious goodwood meeting ] she had 6 winners and had 22k to collect. Came in on the monday manager gave her the cheque and she gave us both a tip, manager £2 , cashier {me } £1 Tight cow . Aspro 17 Aug 00:00 I have received a message from AITL to thank Henry and the rest of you for your contributions to this thread.. :) |
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Happy New Year to all punters
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cheers big charlie
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strat 28 Jul 23:14
Machine Man comes in the shop pockets full of coins (no notes), doesnt put a bet on. Plays the fruit machines all day. Puts in about £200, wins the £20 jackpot and goes home happy. you missed that one Are these people extinct??? Greedy bookies killed them all of with there need for notes rather than coins in the orrible FOBTs |
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I used to own a betting shop,and had many great characters,one that sticks in my mind was Mr darts,he was known as this because he was never seen without his tungstens,always had them in his top pocket.
Anyway Mr darts was a bettor of every favourite,and as you can realize never seemed to win on the day. one particular day i was locking up the office after racing,and he was waiting outside,he asked me if i could lend him £250,i said no,and he was not to pleased,and said he could guarentee me the money back by Monday morning because he had had an antepost bet on Bjorn Borg to win Wimbledon at 25/1 (the best price any bookie was at the start 6/4) I just carried on walking and left him bewildered. a right Walter Mitty. |
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Talking to one of mates earlier today about the old days in the shops, and he asked ' Do you remember Mad Jack?' :)
Jack was in his late 60s or early 70s, but completely normal. He got called Mad Jack simply because his thick eyebrows turned up at the end like the villains in the old silent movies. He used to bet in my shop in the mid 1970s. He had the same bet every time, 3 x £1 win doubles and a £1 each way treble. He came in just before xmas, after a few beers, put his bet on and vanished over to the pub for a few more beers. While he was over the pub his first horse won at 12/1, and in the Life his other two were both 4/1. His second nag drifted to 8/1 and won by half the track. When the 3rd one came up Jack was back in the shop and half pi$$ed. He watched it win at 3/1 or 7/2 (can't remember) and I said 'Can you hang on until after the last race and I'll get you all your money.' But he said ' We're going away tonight and if I'm late for the coach she'll facking murder me. Can you rake up a monkey, you can keep the rest for a drink.' I said 'Are you sure?' He said ' Yeh, xmas ennit, have a drink each.' We soon got the £500 together and Jack left the shop quite happy, leaving me, the cashier and the boardmarker even happier. KEEEEERCHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!! When we saw him again in January he said to me ' I was unlucky to take 4/1 than horse that won at 8s wasn't I ? Still, a monkeys a monkey.' Somebody in the shop had obviously worked it out for him (wrongly) He had only taken a price on the 12/1 shot, not the other two nags. |
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I'm just back from the bookies. I put my bet on & picked up the RP. The only customer in there, who I have seen before, but never spoken to me said;
'All right, how's Richard? 'Who's Richard', says I 'Richard Cooper, with the beard' 'I don't know him.' 'Yes you do, you're always drinking with him in the pub.' 'What pub?' 'That pub over there.' 'I only go there with my Mrs, and I've never spoken to no Richard. 'Yes you have, I was there when you were talking to him about a horse. I can't remember it's name. I'm only asking cos he's homeless and I'm worried about him.' I was trying to read the RP and just ignored him. He droned on; 'I think he might be staying with Carl with the long hair. He had a flat but his landlord went bankrupt and they all got thrown out.' I was walking to the exit by this time and he was still babbling about feckin Richard. |
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:)
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A pleasing read
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there was a regular in a shop i used to work in. used to play 49s regular as clockwork.
one day he came in annoyed as the drawn numbers were along lines of 12, 14, 16, 46, 49, 28. At first i thought he has having a laugh when he came in and said "Tell them the need to spin it better". i laughed it off but he got annoyed and said "no, seriously, can you please ring them, tell them they aint spinning them good enough" |
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Daft Davey uses a lad****** shop in Peterlee, uses dice to pick his dog forecasts, has a laugh like i never heard before sort of he he he heeee. Ex army i good lad deep sown just troubled, people take the pi** out of him but a good bloke in my eyes. Always has a joke for you and always waiting for 1 horse for the placepot, has hundreds of 1p-20p bets on. He also rides a pushbike with a getto blaster selloptaped to the frame, and decorated the bike with tinssle and borbles at Christmas. A real betting shop character, even smells like one :D
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MR SMELLY
worked for an indy in ipswich about 15 years ago. the firm opened a brand new shop with seperate smoking and no smoking areas, all very plush carpets and armchairs in the large non smoking area, whereas the smoking area was quite small and sparsely furnished with a hard tiled floor and room for about 6 punters at a push. anyway a punter known as mr smelly would always come into the shop at about 2.30 and not leave til about 6 and by god did he reek. as soon as he came in the door the 20 -30 punters usually in the shop at that time would all make for the smoking area which would resemble a can of sardines for the duration of mr smellys stay. this went on for weeks until one of our more tactful clients chucked a bar of soap at him one afternoon with the words "go home and learn how to use it you smelly c**t". he must still be learning because he never did return! |
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kingfisher 23
He sounds like a right eccentric |
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DECORATOR DAVE
when working for ladcrooks we had a punter who would always without fail come in blind drunk, swaying, swearing, the full works paint stains all over his clothes which were insignificant except for the fact that he always wore jogging bottoms and trainers and always stuffed his dough into the rather shallow loose pockets of the said jogging bottoms. his writng was atrocious with one bet in two requiring translation by dave himself and being an exiled**ney he loved a bit of rhyming slang. phrases such as "come on tom" (tom mix =six) became common language in the shop when dave was in, as did a few choicer words when he backed his usual stream of short priced dog losers. anyway dave was a complete mug and would bet til the lot was done in usually asking for a sub for his bus ride home - which we did succumb to on a few occasions. however on one bright summer afternoon dave had the midas touch ( must have done a job with gold paint that day ) and everything he backed won. when the time came for him to leave he came up to the counter swaying, chest out ,chin up and said "ive had a good day boys think i'll treat me old self order us a taxi sunshine will you". shellshocked at the request we phoned for the taxi which picked him up 10 minutes later. next day when he came in he was stone cold sober and explained that when he got home in the taxi he had lost his money from out of his trackie trousers and was potless til pay day, and his missus had had to pay the taxi fare for him. at that very moment enter the taxi driver who said "hello mate i reckon you dropped this last night in my taxi, i fished it out of the side pocket this morning and he gave dave a bundle of about £500. off went dave highly delighted and came back 2 hours later highly intoxicated. |
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Well done roma, new tales always welcome.
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just remembered this one
P*SSHEAD JOCK AND LITTLE MO the first shop i worked in was a small shoebox indy in ipswich in about 1992. the shop a*sehole was p*sshead jock who unsurprisingly was a drunken scotsman who eventually got himself banned and all his bets were put on by his long suffering wife. a few weeks after he was banned jock appearred at about 2 oclock one friday afternoon with a winning ticket from the previous day that his wife had put on for him. when he tried to draw my manager told him to eff off as he was barred and his wife would have to collect it for him. well that lit the blue touch paper and jock went mental hurling obscenities at anyone and everyone for about 5 minutes and finally hawked a massive throatfull of phlegm landing a direct hit on the counter bandit screen. most of the punters in the shop just stood and stared but enter a most unlikely hero- little mo- a small west indian gentleman who always wore a john motson sheepskin coat and trilby hat with big thick glasses. on seeing the said phlegm he took out a big hankerchief from his sheepkin wiped it off the bandit screen and the wiped it in jocks face with the immortal line "i believe this is yours, you filthy pig!" it is the only time i have heard a round of applause in a betting shop and with his tail between his legs jock scarpered. however he was back the next day p*ssed as usual trying to come in the shop, he was probably the most dreadful human being i have met. |