Sep 15 2009
Chaos in Wigan as Royal Mail and First Manchester staff stage walkouts
Life in Wigan ground to a halt yesterday as twin strikes meant that both the town’s postal and public transport services were massively curtailed. Postal workers and First Manchester bus drivers both formed picket lines in protest at working conditions, pay and the lack of pies in the canteen.
Well, they have meat and potato, but I want steak and kidney! — Alf Hart, irate picket line protester
What makes the story all the more interesting is the fact that the bus station and central post offices are situated side-by-side, prompting rumours of a merger of the two. Yet more think the postal workers invited the bus drivers over for a cup of Sunday tea, during which both completely lost track of time and only emerged this morning rather worse for wear, thinking it was still Friday evening.
It was not all doom and gloom for the town’s residents, however. South Lancashire bus drivers, who are generally regarded as much harder than their First Manchester counterparts, took no part in the disruptive action. Additionally, schoolchildren were drafted in to deliver the day’s post, but this was deemed a miserable failure as the post was later found opened and minus cash and postal orders removed in a large pile round the back of Tesco.
Further strikes are expected in the coming month, with shop workers, train drivers, grave diggers and farmers all set to stage walkouts on Friday. Extra council workers and police horses are to be drafted in to deal with the expected riots, provided that they too do not go on strike.
Now that you mention it, that sounds like a brilliant idea! Hey, lads! Fancy a day out in Blackpool on Friday? — Council workers’ union spokesperson
Whoops. As of now, the public have ordered small time internet blogger and wannabe journalist Harry Yack to shut his flaming mouth or face the consequences. Whether these involve Medieval torture devices, I do not know, but I sure as hack am not waiting around here to find out.
If you need me, I’ll be in Bridlington.










