Top o' the morning to ya.
Monday, 23 April 2007
Right. Another bleedin' incident report.
One of the perks of working at a holiday park is that you get a reasonable percentage of what we'll politely term unsavoury visitors staying the night. Now, I'm more Paddy than anything else so I think it's acceptable for me to make this judgement - each week we get problems with the Irish. Now, by that, I mean the more rural element of that fine country. Travellers. What you would call 'pikey scum'. Hey, hold on - you said it.
Every week something has happened. Tonight was no exception.
We had a few of their kids up yesterday, and naturally I clocked the accents immediately and thought, "Hmmm." Now, that seems incredibly prejudice but believe me, experience counts for a lot here. For comparison purposes, I'm sure there are many fine Liverpudlians dotted around the planet but I can honestly say I've never met a nice Scouser - in my experience, having worked at a restaurant in Eastbourne at the end of 1980s when the place was, excuse me, littered with them, they're all absolute scum. That is, those that I have met are. I'm sure the rest are lovely. I've just never had the pleasure.
Ditto, our travelling friends. Saturday, we had a few problems with the kids forgetting/losing their passes etc then trying to sneak in, but that was that.
Tonight was a little different.
7pm. Same kids show up. About five of them, only one has a pass. They're not coming in, etc etc, blah blah fucking blah.
7.30pm. The father arrives. Absolutely fucked out of his head. No pass. Not coming in. He says he's going to get his pass. Comes back without it. Not coming in. Says he's going to get his booking letter. Comes back without it. Not coming in. Says, "Right, I'm getting my fucking pass and then you can fucking eat it." Definitely not coming back in.
9.45pm. His wife and her friend show up. Fucked out of their heads. One pass between them. Only one can come in. Both get aggressive and abusive. "Fock, focker, focking." etc. Ultimately escorted to the door.
10.15pm. Off the main complex, we hear over the radio that the father, now even more pissed, has been a problem down the lower bar. How he got in I'll never know, but it seems he ordered a few drinks, declared he wasn't paying, then drunk them anyway. Escorted outside, he threatens The Lodge - "I'm gonna get a knife and come back and slice you in two" - and eventually the police are called. While they're deciding what to do, they get his details and check his record, and get this - he's only a wanted felon with some 30-pages of violations which include armed robbery! Think: less than three hours a go I'd had this twat in my face and now the police are handcuffing him, dragging him off the site and one assumes locking him up. One oddity is that before they put him in the car, his wife came up to him, waved in his face and said, "See you later then, you twat." Ladies and gentlemen - the happy couple.
The upside is the entire fucking lot of them are being booted off the park in the morning.
Relatively, however, this was the highpoint of the evening. The lowest was when I was working the DJ booth around midnight, sitting on the stage watching the dancefloor. This dark-haired lady, who was easily in her early 60s, had been making lewd comments my way all night. Suddenly, and during the Pussycat Dolls Don't Cha, she comes waltzing over and does a borderline lap dance. For my pleasure. What can you do? Grin and bear it. Thankfully, it didn't last long (I came almost immediately), but Jesus. That's a memory I'm going to have trouble shaking off.
The Lodge, bless her, is on the ropes, and as such is making a proper effort. Allegedly complaints have been made by the manager of the lower bar about her work ethic, and she's going to have to buck her ideas up, but the worst fucking part is that I'm almost certainly going to have to do that shift once or twice a week. This angers me to the point where I want to rain violence down on the elderly and infirm. I may have to get up early tomorrow.
posted by Sheamus @ 2:30 am
