Waiting, on a Sunday afternoon, for what I read between the lines...
Monday 25 June 2007
Just when I feel I've got the place running somewhat smoothly, Lynch (#2) comes back from his holiday today and informs us that they're cutting staff for the peak season (basically, the summer holidays) and that the maximum we'll have in the complex Monday to Friday is three, with four on the weekends.
Jesus Christ, why not just put an advert in the local paper inviting all the local scumbags to come up and have a go, "... if they think they're hard enough"!?
Wankers.
We've had this place running like a fucking baby the last couple of weeks. Virtually no trouble at all. And now I'm hearing shit like "we only want one on the door". Fucking fuckity fuck fuck.
Half the problem with the place right now is, because one works days and one works nights, #1 and #2 only see each for one hour about four days a week and each seems to be intent on either (a) showing who's really in charge and (b) outdoing each other. Specifically, they don't really talk. #1 is far easier to get on with and, somewhat importantly, actually listens to what you have to say. More importantly, he listens to what I have to say. #2 doesn't really give a fuck what anybody has to say. Moreover, he's clearly pissed off he isn't #1.
The short version? None of us are going to be there come July 25th. The only possible saver now is that the two new guys - the agency dudes - are actually here for the entire season. Talk about a fucking one-eighty.
Rumour is Bilbo is going to get offered a switch to park security this week; if he doesn't take it, he's out. Of course, how many times have I written something like this, only for nothing to fucking happen at all.
posted by Sheamus @ 2:00 am
