The past two days seriously wore me out. I can stress enough how physically tiring waitressing is. If I hear anyone call it a dumb ass job, somebody gonna get a hurt real bad. One thing I must say though, it is becoming quite an experience with Interviewer getting me to do a lot of accounting work that includes vetting the stock-take. I’m kind of getting this whole restaurant management thing and I feel more confident now that I can do when the time comes. But I still have a long way to go and a lot more to learn. Thankfully Interviewer is the complete opposite of LD and he perpetually asks me if I have had a break. Unless I need to smoke, I don’t see why I need a break. What the hell is there to do? Stare at yachts and ducks?
I’m not sure if I mentioned that on Saturday last week (Day 14), it was just Interviewer and I on the floor serving an almost fully occupied bar and restaurant. As you can already imagine, the two of us ran like headless chickens throughout the night and by the time we cashed and closed up for the evening, it was way past midnight and I’d been on my feet for about 12 hours. Yesterday Interviewer recollect Saturday to explain how grateful he was that I did not have a nervous breakdown and that I trouped on alongside him. Apparently my work ethics are admirable. To be dead honest, I had quite a bit of fun that night although I ended up very tired and probably knocked right into sleep the moment my head touched the pillow. But the thing is I had a lot of fun. So I can conclude now that regardless of what I do, I live for the stress. This also affirms that Rastahair is right – I am an over-achiever. I will never be happy being second best.
What was nice about last night was that I got to get off work by about 6pm because the new Model/Waitress seems to be pretty familiar with the systems in place at the restaurant. Last night was the first night after work that I drove home not feeling completely busted. In fact, I drove home feeling super pleased with myself having accomplished an entire week’s worth of waitressing and not having to work in the next two days.
When I got home, HM1, HM4 and I decided to go watch Superhero movie in the cinema nearby. It was not exciting, barely funny and a complete waste of time and money. It was so bad that I fell asleep halfway through the movie (even though I was all sugared up thanks to a large Coke slushee / slurpee) only to be woken up by HM1 poking me on my arm. I was relieved that the movie was over. I needed a smoke badly.
I was really knocked out when I got back home but when HM3 we indulged in things that come in little blue boxes and went straight into la la land.
So as you can tell, my work days are really boring and therefore I’d rather not bore you with procedures on how to make a perfect latte or how to pour a perfect pint of lager.
Today I got up at a reasonably decent time of 10am. Only because the postman literally knocked the front door down because he had a parcel for HM2. I don’t think I was in the deepest of sleeps then but I was really annoyed. When I opened the door, an irritated Postie mentioned something about a parcel that I had to sign for and almost pushed it into my hands. Needless to say, when I returned his stylus after signing for the parcel, I wanted very much to poke his eyes with them. Fucking bastard.
I get a text from HM3 this morning and we are supposed to go for lunch. Except this time I am supposed to get him from his office because he didn’t drive to work today. His text states the address and tells me to find it on googlemap. I sort of know the area so I decide to do my laundry instead and leave looking for directions to later.
At about midday, I quickly browse through googlemaps and the instructions were very clear – 1. Exit Great North Road and turn right; 2. Turn right again at Bond Street. Easy. Right and right. How difficult can that be. By the time I got there, a right turn didn’t seem, well … right. So like the champion that I am, I turned left instead. After about a kilometer, I still don’t see Bond Street, I decide to make a U-turn and go down the road where I was supposed to have turned right. It must have been about five minutes later when I realised I was completely lost. I lasted another 20 minutes on the road trying to look for the damn place and finally called HM3 for the third time to tell him lunch was not going to be possible because by the time I find the place, our visas would have expired and we’ll be travelling back to our respective homelands.
The conversation went like this:
