Skip to main content

I don't know where it comes from

IMPORTANT NOTE: all Coastalblog entries from here on in will be named after Ride songs.

EQUALLY IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a lie

Well, well, well, what's got into me all of a sudden? I feel stable and relaxed. I'm loving my job (which isn't to say I'm not looking for new ones, but it's astonishing what a big wedge of money will do for your outlook on things), this evening I quite possibly sewed up waiter Of The Year 2004 with a flawless performance which secured a a regular reservation by some curmudgeonly, but exceedingly rich and big spending, with lots of rich and big spending mates, blokes. Some sort of social society, I gather. I don't really care. It was like a test of how good I really am, which was passed with flying colours, off they all trooped into the night singing our praises, hefty tip and repeat booking safely bagged. Therefore I am currently Golden Boy, at least until tomorrow, which is, of course, nice (I am, of course, aware, that it's easy to be good at my job when the kitchen are on song. Many pints for the boys).

when it's all firing, and everyone's working hard and it all just clicks then I love my job more than anything bar friends and family, the sense of satisfaction is hard to quantify. As I may have mentioned before I am so proud of some of my staff it just isn't funny. we seem to have a hiring policy of hiring misfits. But our collection of stoners, thugs, hysterics and quiet, shy kids who think too much about things are, now, damn fine floor and bar staff. Watching them work tonight, I nearly cried, I was so proud.

In addition a week off in Feb to visit the folks, including my newly engaged mother (YOU GO GIRL!) and my as yet unseen nephew (which, considering he';s nearly two, gives you some idea of how often I get to see my family) in the delightful company of Mrs Coastaltown, whiom, I am pleased to report, I miss dreadfully.

if that wasn't enough I am writing like a motherfucker, edits mostly, but some new stuff (including one about This Guy, as well as new stuff for the well meaning people at the People's Poet. apparently I'm already in a book that's out, I must get round to claiming my copy....

In short, as currently stands, it's all good, and if you know me at all well, and have any idea of my state of mind over the last month or so, then I would like you to take whatever drink is closest to hand, raise it and say "Thank fuck for that, he was starting to get on my nerves"

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Creepy old men

I note, somewhat wearily, that creepy old men are back in the news, being creepy. Creepy old men, and their apologists and enablers, who argue that their creepiness is somehow the natural order of things. Old men would have you believe that it is difficult to not be a creepy old man. That it is a task of epic proportions. It is not that difficult. It is a matter of intention. As yet more of the grimness of Epstein unfolds, creepy old men are, sadly, a flaccid topic once again. Whether it be pursuing students thirty years their junior, or simply not asking too many questions about the background of the probably legal young woman who you've just been introduced to by your good pal Jeff. To be clear, I am not referring to criminal creepy old men, the ones who actually committed statutory rape, the ones who fucked trafficked hirls. That is not something which is allowed to get away merely with the contempt of the observer.  That deserves prison.  No , I'm referring to the hinterla...
Post a Comment
Read more

Inedible

"He says it's inedible" said my front of house manager, as she laid the half-eaten fish and chips in front of me, and instantly I relaxed.  Clearly, I observed, it was edible to some degree. I comped it, because I can't be arsed arguing the toss, and I want to make my front of house's lives as simple as possible. The haddock had been delivered that morning. The fryers had been cleaned that morning. The batter had been made that morning (and it's very good batter, ask me nicely and I'll give you the recipe some time). The fish and chips was identical to the other 27 portions I'd sent out on that lunch service, all of which had come back more or less hoovered up, we have have a (justified, if I do say so myself) very good reputation for our chips. But it was, apparently, "inedible". When it comes to complaints, less is more. If you use a hyperbolic word like that, I'll switch off, you've marked yourself as a rube, a chump, I'm not g...
Post a Comment
Read more

The daftest complaint I ever had

I have written here several times down the years about customer complaints, both justified and idiotic. Working in hospitality they are an ineivitability. No matter how good you are, how consistent, you will get complaints. Very few of them stick in the memory, but some, by virtue of their extreme idiocy, do. And one popped into my mind as I was plating up a dish this lunchtime, and I thought, why not, it's as good a thing to write a blog about as any. It's also an entertaining example of how events can play out in ways you may not expect at the time. It sticks in the mind as it combined stupidity with a petty malice and venality which leaves me with no qualms about taking the piss out of it publicly. I rarely let bad reviews lie, if I feel they're unfair I might demur, if I feel they're reasonable I'll make a point of apologising. If they're stupid I'll take pleasure in replying very politely. This one got ignored. It happened on a Sunday, which is another ...
Post a Comment
Read more