It's only been a week since my post on bar room etiquette, but I've experienced many more terrible pub errors in the last seven days and I feel compelled to share them with you. Here's what some of my customers have been up to and the consequences of their actions.
People still amaze me.
1: Don't pretend that you're going to buy the pub, wind everyone up and then piss in the sink in the gents. Ejected!
2: Don't go on a pub crawl, play drinking games and then wind your friend up so much that he punches you in the face. Ejected!
3: If I have expressed concerns over whether you should have any more to drink but reluctantly served you a Westons, do not look me square in the eye and say "can I have a f**king glass". Oh, you best believe he got Ejected!
I hadn't planned on carrying on the pub rants but there's just so much to tell, I suspect that this topic may come up again.
On a side note, I've also been gardening this week (remember, job not hobby), but I had a slightly different job to do compared to normal. A load of gravel had been delivered and I had to shovel it all out onto the driveway to resurface it. When I say "a load of gravel" I mean a lot. Six tons to be precise. Man, that was some hard work, it took hours. And to make it even more interesting I accidentally disturbed a nearby bee's nest and had to keep one eye on that too. Good times.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Don't do what Donny Don't does.
Did you see it, did you see it? I was on the telly last night! Everyone did a big cheer when my face appeared for my three seconds of fame. There were also a couple of good shots of the inside and outside of the pub as well. It was pretty exciting. George made it on too, wandering around behind the presenters when they were doing a piece to camera, and everyone did another big cheer. I've had a taste of fame people, and let me tell you, it was well moreish!
It was a good end to the day because I'd been having a bit of a rubbish shift at work. I love working at the pub, but sometimes you can't help but get in a bit of a bad mood. You know what it's like, when every little thing really bothers you. When it seems like someone has written down a list of all your pet hates, photocopied it and secretly distributed it to everyone around you with instructions to pick a few and just go nuts. It's a hazard of all jobs in public service, a hazard of daily life in fact, but when alcohol's involved it seems to get turned up a notch. A whole notch. So, in the interests of good karma and the smooth running of pubs everywhere, I give you my top tips on how not to order your drinks.
1: Don't order a drink and then wander off to the toilet or something whilst it's being poured. It only takes about 10 seconds to pour a pint.
2: Don't order a round and then ask for a Guinness right at the end. Everyone knows it needs time to settle.
3: Don't stand at the bar waiting to be served only to turn around and try to figure out what your 12 mates want when it's your turn. I could be serving other people while you're doing that.
4: Don't assume you can pay by card. Ask first and carry cash.
4b: When told "we don't take cards" do not say "not at all?". What does that mean!? "Oh, yeah, we take cards a little bit. "
5: Don't order your drinks one at a time or twenty in one breath. I am neither a moron nor a robot.
Well there's five hot tips for you. I'd better leave it at that or I run the risk of sounding like a right moaner and having to give up my 'good natured' mantle. Feel free to comment if you think I've omitted anything that the people need to know. It doesn't have to be specifically pub related, just to do with serving the public. We've all got to learn.
P.s. Whatever you do, do not combine any of the above bar room errors. That would be like crossing the beams in Ghostbusters. Do not cross the beams!
It was a good end to the day because I'd been having a bit of a rubbish shift at work. I love working at the pub, but sometimes you can't help but get in a bit of a bad mood. You know what it's like, when every little thing really bothers you. When it seems like someone has written down a list of all your pet hates, photocopied it and secretly distributed it to everyone around you with instructions to pick a few and just go nuts. It's a hazard of all jobs in public service, a hazard of daily life in fact, but when alcohol's involved it seems to get turned up a notch. A whole notch. So, in the interests of good karma and the smooth running of pubs everywhere, I give you my top tips on how not to order your drinks.
1: Don't order a drink and then wander off to the toilet or something whilst it's being poured. It only takes about 10 seconds to pour a pint.
2: Don't order a round and then ask for a Guinness right at the end. Everyone knows it needs time to settle.
3: Don't stand at the bar waiting to be served only to turn around and try to figure out what your 12 mates want when it's your turn. I could be serving other people while you're doing that.
4: Don't assume you can pay by card. Ask first and carry cash.
4b: When told "we don't take cards" do not say "not at all?". What does that mean!? "Oh, yeah, we take cards a little bit. "
5: Don't order your drinks one at a time or twenty in one breath. I am neither a moron nor a robot.
Well there's five hot tips for you. I'd better leave it at that or I run the risk of sounding like a right moaner and having to give up my 'good natured' mantle. Feel free to comment if you think I've omitted anything that the people need to know. It doesn't have to be specifically pub related, just to do with serving the public. We've all got to learn.
P.s. Whatever you do, do not combine any of the above bar room errors. That would be like crossing the beams in Ghostbusters. Do not cross the beams!
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Keeping Busy
Good natured slacker has been extremely slack with regards to blogging lately. But in my defense I have been slightly less slack in other areas of my life. Mostly I have been working harder, doing more shifts at the pub and a bit more gardening. I should point out at this time that gardening is one of my jobs, not a hobby. People often seem surprised when I say I've been gardening all day. I guess the confusion lies in me being so specific. Anyone else would just say they'd been at work. They wouldn't say that they'd spent the day phoning strangers and trying to part them from their money, or that for the last nine hours they'd sat at a desk moving figures from one column to another. "I've been at work", that pretty much covers it.
Anyway, having a little more money is nice and it makes the approach of rent day a little easier to bare. It's also nice to be a bit more productive with my time. Getting up at three every day and sitting around watching crappy daytime tv in my pants until it's time for work can become strangely unsatisfying after a while. Hard to believe I know, but it's true. You start off trying to find decent programming to watch, but the channels available on freeview don't make it an easy job. A bit of Judge Judy, maybe a couple of episodes of Quincy, you start off thinking it won't be too bad. But soon, with all the repeats, finding shows you actually want to watch becomes more and more difficult. You just can't stand to watch another episode from season one of Scrubs, and the thought of Jeremy Kyle's smug face makes you want to go back to bed and try again tomorrow. So, inevitably, your standards begin to slip. Shows you had previously rejected, deeming unwatchable, start to seem more appealing. Until, one day, you find yourself sitting slack jawed before a back to back Hope and Faith marathon, trying to remember what you used to do with your time.
Well, things have changed for me, and so far it's working out quite nicely. A guy I know called Moz recently told me he was trying to write a comic book, and our mutual friend Marc had told him I was into comics and that I liked to draw. So he asked if I would be interested in having a go at illustrating it for him and I said yes. It's all very exciting, but I'll go into more detail at another time.
On Thursday afternoon Channel 4 filmed part of an interview with The Young Knives at the pub. It was about their favorite places to go in Oxford, so of course The Star was first on the list. I got to be in it briefly, playing the role of barman. It was the part I was born to play. Whether they will use any of the parts with me in on the actual show I couldn't say, I just hope I don't look like too much of an idiot. It's going to be on tv on Friday night on 4. Transmission, I think it's called. They filmed the rest of the show at the old bingo hall at the end of my road, Queen's of the Stone Age and Foals both played so it should be really good.
I have to get ready to go to work now, but there's just time to say that I went to see Spiderman 3 last night and it was freakin' awesome. Sandman, good. Venom, good. Spidey, goooood! Can't wait 'til it comes out on DVD and I can make Han watch all 3 of them with me in one sitting. Are you reading this Han? Go nerds! GO NERDS!!!
Anyway, having a little more money is nice and it makes the approach of rent day a little easier to bare. It's also nice to be a bit more productive with my time. Getting up at three every day and sitting around watching crappy daytime tv in my pants until it's time for work can become strangely unsatisfying after a while. Hard to believe I know, but it's true. You start off trying to find decent programming to watch, but the channels available on freeview don't make it an easy job. A bit of Judge Judy, maybe a couple of episodes of Quincy, you start off thinking it won't be too bad. But soon, with all the repeats, finding shows you actually want to watch becomes more and more difficult. You just can't stand to watch another episode from season one of Scrubs, and the thought of Jeremy Kyle's smug face makes you want to go back to bed and try again tomorrow. So, inevitably, your standards begin to slip. Shows you had previously rejected, deeming unwatchable, start to seem more appealing. Until, one day, you find yourself sitting slack jawed before a back to back Hope and Faith marathon, trying to remember what you used to do with your time.
Well, things have changed for me, and so far it's working out quite nicely. A guy I know called Moz recently told me he was trying to write a comic book, and our mutual friend Marc had told him I was into comics and that I liked to draw. So he asked if I would be interested in having a go at illustrating it for him and I said yes. It's all very exciting, but I'll go into more detail at another time.
On Thursday afternoon Channel 4 filmed part of an interview with The Young Knives at the pub. It was about their favorite places to go in Oxford, so of course The Star was first on the list. I got to be in it briefly, playing the role of barman. It was the part I was born to play. Whether they will use any of the parts with me in on the actual show I couldn't say, I just hope I don't look like too much of an idiot. It's going to be on tv on Friday night on 4. Transmission, I think it's called. They filmed the rest of the show at the old bingo hall at the end of my road, Queen's of the Stone Age and Foals both played so it should be really good.
I have to get ready to go to work now, but there's just time to say that I went to see Spiderman 3 last night and it was freakin' awesome. Sandman, good. Venom, good. Spidey, goooood! Can't wait 'til it comes out on DVD and I can make Han watch all 3 of them with me in one sitting. Are you reading this Han? Go nerds! GO NERDS!!!
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Groundhog Dayshift
Every Tuesday I do the dayshift at the pub, and every Tuesday this slightly irritating guy comes in. We'll call him "pint of Fosters". So every Tuesday he comes in, sometimes with his buddy "pint of Coke", sometimes with "pint of Carlsberg", and every Tuesday I serve him his drinks. This has been going on for almost a year and about 6 months ago, after exchanging a few words, he asked me what my name was. I introduced myself, he offered his hand and introduced himself and explained that he liked to know who was serving him. "Fair enough" I thought and carried on bottling up the fridges.
Then, about a month later, after exchanging a few more words, he asked me my name again. I told him again and he introduced himself...again. At first I thought nothing of it, he'd obviously just forgotten, but after the fifth time it started to get annoying. He was asking me my name every other week, as though we had never even spoken before. "At least he's not doing it every week", I thought to myself. Then, of course, he started doing it every week.
He must have done it 15 or 20 times by now. I'm sure he's just trying to be polite, it's just not working out very well for him. To forget someone's name after being told it 20 times, well that just seems rude. Especially when I can tell when he's about to do it, and can predict exactly what he'll say.
Me: "that's £2.60 please."
Fosters: "there you go mate"
Me: (thinks: here it comes)
Fosters: "what's your name anyway pal?"
Me: "...I'm Matt"
Fosters: (extends hand) "My name's Fosters"
Me: (nodding) "Yeah.....I know"
A couple of weeks ago when I told him my name he thought I said Mark. I didn't bother to correct him, what would be the point? We were only going to do the same thing again the next week. In fact, I'm thinking about giving him a different name every time he asks, see how long it takes him to catch on. Although, given his track record so far, it seems highly unlikely that he'll ever notice.
Then, about a month later, after exchanging a few more words, he asked me my name again. I told him again and he introduced himself...again. At first I thought nothing of it, he'd obviously just forgotten, but after the fifth time it started to get annoying. He was asking me my name every other week, as though we had never even spoken before. "At least he's not doing it every week", I thought to myself. Then, of course, he started doing it every week.
He must have done it 15 or 20 times by now. I'm sure he's just trying to be polite, it's just not working out very well for him. To forget someone's name after being told it 20 times, well that just seems rude. Especially when I can tell when he's about to do it, and can predict exactly what he'll say.
Me: "that's £2.60 please."
Fosters: "there you go mate"
Me: (thinks: here it comes)
Fosters: "what's your name anyway pal?"
Me: "...I'm Matt"
Fosters: (extends hand) "My name's Fosters"
Me: (nodding) "Yeah.....I know"
A couple of weeks ago when I told him my name he thought I said Mark. I didn't bother to correct him, what would be the point? We were only going to do the same thing again the next week. In fact, I'm thinking about giving him a different name every time he asks, see how long it takes him to catch on. Although, given his track record so far, it seems highly unlikely that he'll ever notice.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
still here
Seems I've fallen victim to that all too common dry spell that new bloggers often suffer from. The problem is that I have lots of ideas about what to post, but then I start thinking that they're all really lame. Well no more. Here's what's going on.
First of all, I no longer keep my phone in a sock. Han got me a case for Christmas, but people have been calling it a phone bra.
Second. Lex has been on at me for ages to post my recipe for "super fast excitement rice". I had big plans for this, there was going to be a great long list of ingredients, step by step instructions and maybe even some photos. But of course that's not going to happen, that would involve some forward planning. Anyway, here's the basics of the recipe as I'm currently making it.
Stir fry loads of veg, add a spoonful of curry paste (I like goldfish brand chinese curry sauce concentrate), a little water to make it a bit saucy and throw in loads of meat. Any meat, I've made it with chicken, turkey, roast ham, sausage and various combinations.(I normally use meat that I've already cooked to save time.) Or you can use fish and prawns. Then mix in a load of cooked rice, it should go all golden from the curry sauce. That's pretty much it. You can make it as simply or as complicatedly as you like. I like to make a lot of it in one go, at least three meals worth. That way I can have some for my tea and take some to the pub with me to parade around in front of everyone when they're all drunk after work. Jealous.
Third. Inspired partly by a page I saw that had been torn out of Viz and the "why not try writing a sit-com?" page from Lee and Herring's 1995 Fist of Fun annual, I have been trying to invent potential comic strip characters. So far I have come up with:
"Pierre Pressure" a French kid who either pressures other kids into doing stupid stuff or is easily pressured himself, I'm not sure which one yet.
"Harm's Way" Tommy Harm shows you how to do things his way. His way is normally very dangerous, hilarious yet painful results ensue.
That's all I can think of for now, smell you later.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Welcome to the 20th Century
As if starting a blog wasn't futuristic enough for me, I can now claim membership to another popular, technological club. That's right, I am now the proud owner of one of them mobile telephones.
I held off for as long as I could, wearing my uncontactability like a badge of honour. But it couldn't last forever. I can now be reached at any time of day or night, whether I like it or not. My brother definitely likes it though, as he no longer has to act as my personal message service. I think he'd had enough of people having to ring him when they wanted to talk to me. Jeez.
All I have to do now is get used to carrying it around with me. It's a pretty nice phone so I'm constantly paranoid that I'm going to lose it, break it or get it all scratched up. That's why, thanks to a stroke of stylish genious, I am currently carrying it around in a sock. Not a sock that I'm wearing you understand, just a spare one that I can keep in my pocket. I am so cool.
I wonder what'll be next for me, maybe one of those 'full time' jobs people are going on about. Mind you, that might cut into my laying around time. I guess that will have to wait a little longer. Besides, I need all my spare time to figure out how to use that predictive text.
I held off for as long as I could, wearing my uncontactability like a badge of honour. But it couldn't last forever. I can now be reached at any time of day or night, whether I like it or not. My brother definitely likes it though, as he no longer has to act as my personal message service. I think he'd had enough of people having to ring him when they wanted to talk to me. Jeez.
All I have to do now is get used to carrying it around with me. It's a pretty nice phone so I'm constantly paranoid that I'm going to lose it, break it or get it all scratched up. That's why, thanks to a stroke of stylish genious, I am currently carrying it around in a sock. Not a sock that I'm wearing you understand, just a spare one that I can keep in my pocket. I am so cool.
I wonder what'll be next for me, maybe one of those 'full time' jobs people are going on about. Mind you, that might cut into my laying around time. I guess that will have to wait a little longer. Besides, I need all my spare time to figure out how to use that predictive text.
Saturday, December 2, 2006
In News: Nerd Sanctuary To Close.
Fellow nerds, dark days are upon us. At first I refused to believe the rumours, "it can't possibly be true" I kept telling myself, "they've got it all wrong". But true it was. Comic Showcase is to close and we sickly fanboys shall have to fend for ourselves.
I've been a fan of comics ever since I was a kid. Through good times and bad, through clone sagas, costume changes and variant chromium covers. Getting the bus into town every Saturday morning and heading for the tiny 'Demon Comics' shop in Hereford with my cousin Tony. Then lying on his living room floor all afternoon trying to draw our own comics. None of them ever got past about two pages though, because we could never be bothered to finish them.
Even if we had finished any they never would have sold, being mostly obvious rip-offs of other characters. The one that looked like Batman but with Wolverine style claws springs to mind as one that probably would have attracted a few law suits.
Anyway, time's a wastin'. I've got to start gathering up those last few kernels of comic book goodness. There's going to be a long, harsh winter ahead.
I've been a fan of comics ever since I was a kid. Through good times and bad, through clone sagas, costume changes and variant chromium covers. Getting the bus into town every Saturday morning and heading for the tiny 'Demon Comics' shop in Hereford with my cousin Tony. Then lying on his living room floor all afternoon trying to draw our own comics. None of them ever got past about two pages though, because we could never be bothered to finish them.
Even if we had finished any they never would have sold, being mostly obvious rip-offs of other characters. The one that looked like Batman but with Wolverine style claws springs to mind as one that probably would have attracted a few law suits.
Anyway, time's a wastin'. I've got to start gathering up those last few kernels of comic book goodness. There's going to be a long, harsh winter ahead.
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