Friday 31 March 2017

The Misadventures of a Waiter

A new day, lots of productive stuff to do today, I thought to my self. I'll have my wine training, my bar training, my barista training. So much training today yay. Have to walk for an hour but it is alright. Before this day ends I will be able to take on more shifts in different venues and be a better waiter/bartender/barista/glass polisher. I wakl in the office and search for my training supervisor as I was eager to get it over with and learn all the new things. Have a sit they said, it will be fun they said. After a minute or so a guy calls for me and I go in another room. Sorry but we had to cancel the training Nick, we forgot to inform you. It is alright I said. This is fine. *DO YOU FORGET TO EAT OR GO TO THE BATHROOM?*  My mind was shouting and I was slowly smiling to suffocate it. I'll see you tomorrow then. Have a nice day. I went to the shift manager and asked if I could work tomorrow. You know why? Because somebody told me to clear my schedule for today. You know for what? Fucking training. I lost a whole day and lots of money because somebody forgot to inform me. Forgot to pick up the phone and text me 3 freaking words such as..Training canceled. Oh snap, wait. 2 words. 2 fucking words.
But of course, I could not let this small incident to destroy my perfectly positive week full of happiness and laughs. So I thought, you know what, I'm gonna work the whole day tomorrow so I can make up for today. Then I proceeded to book 3 shifts from 7 in the morning on the 1st of April until 4 in the morning on the 2nd of April. 21 fucking long hours of work. So in my first shift I will be stuck behind the bar polishing and cleaning glasses half the day. At least I'm gonna look charming while doing it.  Good thing I'm pretty fast in cleaning stuff so thats nice. The second shift obviously is an hour away in Bolton.

 The only difference is that they wanted me to wear a white shirt instead of my usuall everything black outfit. So I also had to buy a white shirt today. Being extremely tall and quite skinny shopping is a pain in the ass. I try medium sized shirt and the sleeves are really short but it fits my body perfectly. I try a larger one and the opposite happens. An eternal dillema of do I want to look like a rapper on his way to a rap battle or do I want to look like my mother bought me the wrong shirt? Then the savior appeared. She saw that I was a damsel in distress and she fucking came to my rescue. The damsel is obviously a metaphor by the way. What size do you wear, she asked. Um, medium? I guess? My Europian mind was naive ( insert Brexit joke here).  No you dummy, she replied while rolling her eyes because of my stupidity and ignorance. She grabbed  a measuring tape and started measuring my neck. You are a 14.5 she said. I was like no Miss, I am 1,93. I'm tall. Inches you dummy! Inches. Go grab that shirt fast, she ordered. So I grabbed that shirt and tried it. It was actually a pefect fit. I was so happy. I came out and she was like. I knew it. This shirt looks great on you.

Oh, stop it you. With your compliments and all. I thanked the lady and went to pay. After paying and getting lost in Primark because my orientation and direction sense is non existent I found the exit. I rolled a cigarette and started walking home. That was the plan at least until I remembered that I wanted some coffee. I stepped inside Aldi and started my search for bliss. Get it? Because coffee is bliss? I bought some bread, tomatoes, a small pizza and went to pay. After paying and walking 20 minutes I remembered something. I forgot to buy the coffee. Despite the fact that I have no sense of direction, my memory also sucks, like a lot.
No coffee for Nick today, I was too lazy to go back and too stingy to actually buy coffee from the local coffee shop. I arrived home and run to bake the pizza I had because I was hungry as hell. I opened my laptop and logged in my netflix account. After 20 minutes or so I remembered again that I had a pizza in the oven. I look at the back of the box and I see a dreadfull message. ''Recomemended bake time: 10 minutes".
I knew. I knew that my life was going towards a new low point where I was gonna eat my burnt pizza and punish my self for the forgetful human being I am. I open the oven and for some reason my pizza was intact and to be honest absolutely perfectly baked. Fuck yes I said and  rolled the Iron Fist episode I wanted to see. 
I sipped my beer and enjoyed my self, knowing that there are only 10 days left until I get payed. I also have this new masterplan to wrok 16 hours per day and have 2 days offs in between these days for a whopping total of 1 thousand pounds which is fucking awesome and lifechanging. I could buy so many fizzy haribos and so many big macs. OH GOD. Another funny thing I realized today is that I have been listening to the radio a lot these past few days. I came to the realization that I started to like pop music. I have mixed feelings about that. As a rock type of person I  never liked this thrasy music. No offense. Yet, I'm gonna end the adventure with the song that is stuck in my head since morning.
So cheers to another new tomorrow and less canceled trainings!

No comments:

Post a Comment