Aug. 17th, 2010

echoing_dream: (Gen Kill: Brad - Darkness)
I think I am the only person in the world who's currently grateful that the weekend is over. I cannot do 15 hours straight on my feet any more.

I refuse to smile at any more drunken 40-somethings blatently staring down my top (newsflash guys - you can't see anything! I checked myself in front of a mirror before I left!). I refuse to be polite when you watch me send everything through my till and then tell me it's all on a tab. I refuse to say 'excuse me' to anyone behind the bar standing chatting when I'm working my arse off. I refuse to find the last rounded Stella glass for you because you 'only wanted Stella because of the pretty glasses'.

I love French guys who tell me it's OK to serve wine in half-pint glasses because 'zat is verry French', and who ask me if I 'do everything here?' and who wear flat caps inside because 'it is ze style, no?'. I love my regulars who buy packs of Pork Scratchings and tell me I have to share the pack with them. I love regulars who tell me I'm the one pouring them their best pints after my boss has just yelled at me. I love cute blond guys who are patient enough to let me deal with my more pissy regulars and then ask me first if I'm OK.

I love my job, I just hate how many hours I spend doing it... And now I can only speak coherantly in French. C'est tres amusant, non? ♥

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