7 days.
Saturday, 1 September 2007
I handed my notice in tonight. Nothing was said. Quite literally: nothing.
I have a feeling #1 knew what was coming; most of the staff seemed to have heard something about myself and Edmonson leaving.
Either way, tonight provided many reminders about why we're absolutely doing the right thing.
Jabba's not been too well of late, which meant that it was Edmonson and I doing pretty much everything. And we had all manner of cunts in. I was watching one bloke making the moves on his girlfriend, his hands all over her, etc, as she got increasingly agitated. The guy was seriously pissed and he was on thin ice as it was, but when the woman pulled me over and announced she didn't even know him, well he had to go, like, immediately. Especially when the woman's kids started crying over how nervous he was making them. Edmonson and I had to literally drag him out, one arm each, with him doing everything he could to take a swing at one or both of us. Once outside the gates, he did that strange but very typical psychological thing where he started verbally laying into one of us - in this case Edmonson - whilst saying the other one, me, was "a good bloke." I've seen this many times. Usually it's me who is the cunt, but it's almost like these dicks do a kind of reverse-projection of the 'good cop/bad cop' stereotype, maybe in some kind of loose attempt to gain favour or make one of us doubt the other. It never works, naturally, but it's all quite fascinating, simply because it's so consistent. It happens too regularly to just be a coincidence.
However, because of this and various other incidents that occured, Edmonson has decided he isn't coming in tomorrow which basically means I am not coming in, because I'm the only other DS on duty. Jabba has a 4-day holiday. I ain't doing this shit by myself. Even when/if I go back on Sunday, it's just me and Jones. And on Tuesday, just me and Edmonson, assuming he shows up. Now, one realises why 99.99 per cent of all ex-employees didn't give a fuck about their contract/one-week notice and just fucked off, instead. Much easier. Much less hassle. The irony is I figured I'd do 'the boys' a favour and work the week out, and what happens? They all fuck off on me. You really can't make this dogshit up.
The upside? When it's finally all over, I have 65 hours of holiday pay to come. How'd you like those apples?
posted by Sheamus @ 3:30 am
