The party went on till pretty late last night and I was entertained by HM1 throwing up without much warning. HM4 crashed out mid way. I love drinking in the cold. It’s gets you going all night long, you never get sleepy and you can jump around and never get too warm. I can’t wait for winter to come and will definitely need to stock up on the booze. McKenna is growing on to me and I’m starting to think it’s better than Jim Beam.
Got into work at 9am which was horrendous. I drove to work in a daze but when I got into the restaurant, I met the new duty manager who I absolutely like. She is so different from the girls that just left the restaurant (thank God for that). She’s responsible, helpful and gracious. She’s also just a few years younger than I am so she’s a lot more mature than the teeny boppers I had to put up with for the past few days.
Work went very well today. Responsible seems to think I know lots about the restaurant which I don’t. I obviously know more than her now seeing that this is her first official day. She was full of nerves in the beginning, which I found plenty endearing. I’ve been helping her out and teaching her about the system the whole day. She likes me very much. She told me so. I am very pleased with myself today.
At about 11am Spanish chef cooked us up Eggs Benedict. It was creamy and the eggs were made just right but I felt really sick afterwards. Now if he could cook me up some BKT or pan meen, I’ll be super thrilled. Yeah right. Then at about 1pm, Kiwi chef gives me a plate of fried bananas and ice cream! The bananas were really good and his batter was super light and sweetish. Note to self: must use beer, corn flour and self-raising flour to make good batter. But the ice cream killed me. I almost threw up after dessert. If they keep feeding me like this at the restaurant, I’ll go back to KL looking like an elephant.
I came back home at about 4pm. Got rostered in for a split shift today which sucks madness. Read an email that I got from Rastahair and I was not pleased with its contents. I decided to ring him to shout at him but I ended up whining and whinging about having to do my own laundry, making my own bed, cooking my meals, driving a car that doesn’t go above 100km/h, having to wear a seatbelt all the damn time, no kopi shops, no kopi shop’s KOPI, no BKT, no dim sum, sucky Japanese food, no proper drinkers/drunks, no proper pubs, no snooker, no kaki to play snooker with … and the list goes on. I did however apologise at the end of the conversation for whining so much and that I definitely sounded like a cross between a spoilt brat and a bimbo. I miss manja-ing. Can’t do that with anyone here lest they really believe I am a spoilt brat and a bimbo. But Rastahair, like all the other goons that I have known since forever, forgives me. That’s because they love me. And I love them all the same.
I get off work and I do not feel my legs anymore. One waitress and a bartender decided to FFK us for illness or whatever it may be and I am a little apprehensive because I will have to break down the bar. It’s not as fun as it sounds. Believe me. I would love to break a bar but not break a bar like I have to do tonight. For two bars, nonetheless.
Everything is going on fine until I notice discrepancies within bills and I am told to tally up receipts and money. Rule number one. You never get new staff to handle money and if you really have to, you watch them. So either I look very trusting or Interviewer just doesn’t really know what he is doing. I’m going with the latter.
I got a very nice card from HM3 which he left in my room. That really made my day. If all Czech guys are so adorably thoughtful, I’m moving there next. I’m sure they have kids there that I can form my project around. Yup. I am a citizen of the world and I can live anywhere I want. Though, I will most probably be disowned by my parents. And the resident dog. But who needs parents at an old, old age of twenty eight. And we can always buy another dog. I am a citizen of the world.
Got to bed super late. HM3 and I got back home at the same time. He mentioned something about hitting a car and arguing with Italian/Afghan. My brain feels like mashed potatoes and I don’t listen to what he says at all. I’m sure I asked him what happened (in reference to both events) and I’m sure he answered but I seriously cannot remember what he said. I wonder if I should ask him again today.
So, HM3 and I had a crappy day at work. We drink and indulge in the little blue box (not the best of ideas). Then I think we almost ate everything in the fridge. As I walked past the kitchen, there is HM3 sitting on a chair staring at the toaster waiting for his bread to pop up. He had a butter knife with butter on it on his right hand and had the expression of a cross between a baton relay athlete and a depraved man. Not the prettiest of sights. I see tomatoes on his left and that’s when it all started. We almost ate everything in the fridge.
Again we were drinking, smoking, indulging in things that comes in little blue boxes and eating. Again we talked about forgettable things but we talk for a long time. I’m not sure why I keep having forgettable conversations with HM3. But then again, at 3am, after 12 hours of waitressing, does one really need to talk about Communism?
