Gosh, I’m tired. It is 3am, so it is to be expected. You would be forgiven for thinking I have eloped off back to Thailand being up at this hour, but in actual fact I have just spent the last 8 hours running around serving drinks in a surprisingly busy social club on Glasgow’s (un)stylish South Side.
How did this come to pass, I hear you ask? Aleks, my Polish sister in law runs the bars at said social club, so I went to help out as they were short handed this evening. I have worked in various drinking establishments before, so it was not all new to me (altho the first pint I poured was awful and they foxed me with a very odd Stella pump which twists round instead of having a tap you pull down – bloody French).
What was new to me was standing up for 8 hours with not even a sniff of sitting down. I have no idea how people stand up all day – I like a good sit down me. If I am out and about, in the house, at work – I like a good sit down and will even make the oooooof noise when I do so, to express my sheer joy in taking a load off. So it was quite a surprise to me that I made it thru the nite without being in too much pain (altho now I have sat down my trotters are throbbing and demanding to be taken back to Bangkok for a massage and a soak in some lime-infused waters).
I’d forgotten that working in a bar can be fun – I had a good laugh with some of the customers, including a pensioner who was so tickled that I remembered his order when he came back and a lady drinking Kaliber (no-alcohol beer) who I was joking with that she would be legless after drinking 5 of those. A man even gave me a £5 tip (probably because I overheard him saying to his friend that the “fat girl” was serving him), and I was really pleased to make an extra £12.20 in tips on top of my wage for the nite.
The clientele there is so varied. There are 4 bars at the club, and they variously had a 60th birthday party, an old codger regulars’ evening (complete with old man singing and playing keyboard and middle aged woman in shiny gold dress dancing), snooker and an engagement party for a young man and his bride to be who looked just like Barabara Streisand except with a much bigger nose. I was mostly working on the engagement party people with a few brief forays into pensionerland where I had my arm patted, my hair sprayed with orange bacardi breezer and my face covered in an old man’s spit where he bellowed his order at me, god bless him.
I am covered in beer and so tired, but I am also SO happy that I had fun and more importantly, made some money as I can now officially afford to liberate my luggage on Monday – WHOOOOOP! Oh, and also, in all that excitement I have somehow managed to forget to blog the happy news that I HAVE A JOB! It’s only a temp job for the moment, working in the shitehole that is Drumchapel, which on Friday when I went for an interview, looked more like Bosnia circa 1996 than Glasgow. I will be doing some extremely poorly paid admin work for some sort of council-agency to do with community planning which sounds dreadfully dull, but as I keep telling myself, it pays better than watching Flog It in my dressing gown. I am starting there on Tuesday, as it’s a local holiday here on Monday (for Glasgow Fair, fact lovers). It’s a relief all round I can tell you.
That’s about all my news for now. I am sure I will have tales of luggage hell to tell come Monday – stay tuned!