Freebies. Right.
Monday 18 June 2007
After the events on Friday and the way it's been at my place of work for the past three months, I've decided that my new and firm policy is unless I get a free drink from the management (or some kind staff member) post-business once I've locked the place down I'm out of there. Fuck paying for my own cider; a drink should be basically unofficially written into your contact like it is at every other bloody nightclub. I was down the rather swanky Black Market on George Street on Friday and the doorstaff there were getting free Cokes, coffees and even fucking Red Bulls all night long. And that's how it should be. Draft Coke costs the venue fuck-all. Likewise coffee. The cost of a draft pint in a barrel of beer is something between 35p and a quid depending on the barrel size, and don't fucking tell me they're paying £2.50 for a can of Red Bull and selling it on at cost. Fuck that.
On the upside, I did get 1 1/2 free giant-sized hot dogs tonight, but I'm still not happy.
Bilbo's disciplinary ending with a verbal warning; a light slap on the wrist if you will. While I had no vested interest in seeing the guy get the boot, he did everything in his power to warrant it. Once again, management have proven that everybody is basically the same - loyal and hard-working staff don't get anything in the way of a reward, and unreliable and bone-idle layabouts don't get anything that resembles a punishment. To wit, you're all the fucking same to us.
Otherwise, the main highlight this evening was a series of overnight caravan robberies, and all the flimsy evidence pointing to the uber-chav 'wigga' boyfriend of one of the ENTS girls, who happens to be leaving the job tomorrow. Coincidence? Hmmm.
posted by Sheamus @ 1:30 am
