Cross Dresser Closet Conundrum.

Right then, it's only the sixth day of the new year and already I'm having problems at Ware-Armitage Munitions Inc.

You may recall Ware-Armitage Munitions Inc is a defence industry manufacturer for all domestic and external needs that need defending against things attacking your defences.

Well that's enough of that. So here on the sixth day of the new year one stinker of an employee had tried to go and shaft everything at my expense. I reckon it was deliberate myself but due to me being very clever I outsmarted the bleeder him.


What the swine chap did was to embark on a gender-reassignment programme over the Christmas one-day break. Being the expert I am on people's wedding departments I find all this gender thingy stuff a trifle odd but fortunately I am also of a fair disposition and can tolerate other people's inadequateness. But this particular chap called Nigel or should I now say Nigelina has really tried to interfere with the weapons division. defence procurement facility.

He turned up on New Year's Day in a dress, wig and full make up! Nobody said anything to her out of shear terror I expect but nevertheless, according to the line manager, everything went as usual until Nigel went to have a piss. That was when everything went all Taliban! 

The chaps in the gents kharzi took umbrage over having to share with a woman and they complained to the shop steward. Nobody was able to resolve this matter so I was called away from the golf course to sort it all out. Took me an hour to get there and after much huffing and bad tempers I decided that thenceforth Nigelina would have to piss in the ladies' shitters. 

I cleared orff, Nigelina was told and I got in the Rolls and went back to the golf course to finish my round with Mr Goldfinger. What happened? Well twenty minutes after I had arrived I got a call from that useless line manager and I had to go back. Luckily Mr Goldfinger was a patient fellow. 

Anyway I got back to the munitions factory an hour later to find that Nigel had indeed followed her instructions and had used the ladies bogs to relieve himself. What happened? Well a group of women employees in the ladies powder room complained to the shop steward that they didn't want to share a loo with a man dressed as a woman! What was I supposed to do?

Right so Nigelina was sent back to the production line and I and the  factory manager stood scratching our arses trying to find a solution. That's when I hit upon it. I told the manager that Nigel was to do his shits and pisses using the disabled toilets. I thought this was a marvellous solution; both the chaps and the chapesses wouldn't have to share their toilets with Nigel. Marvellous. I hopped in to the Rolls, drove back to Wentworth and continued playing golf with Mr Goldfinger.

It took me an hour to get to the course and then, again, twenty minutes after I had arrived the phone went orff and I had the works manager doing a Taliban down the blower.

So orff I bloody well went back to the factory to try to sort this one out once and for all. Apparently Nigelina was very upset at being classed as 'disabled' which I supposed isn't an unfair observation but bloody Nigel was revelling in the attention she was drumming up for himself. What was even worse was that he was insinuating that she should be granted right of access to the management kharzi! Well I wasn't having that! There was no way I was going to share my arse-telephone with one of the stinking little shits of an grunt employees! No way! Do these people have any idea where my arse has been? Of course not! 

So this is what I did to resolve the matter with Nigel. The trick was to find a solution that wouldn't discriminate, would be fair to all, show innovation and sensitivity and be a showcase for the entire world to see and marvel over. 

Yes that's right after every one of those stinkers had gone home I closed all the toilets in the entire factory. Locked em all. I then dug a twenty metre long by seven metre deep trench in the car park and put a sign up saying 'Staff Toilets' next to it. I put a few newspapers out for hygiene purposes and rope for people to hang on to if needed. Bingo! fresh air, equality, justice and a place to have a good natter all round.

You know it's this kind of thinking that makes Britain the country that it is.