05.10.2003 || 04h05

Fridays are hellacious. That's all I'm saying.

And if that wasn't enough, To-day's marathon shift at the pub was significantly less than fun. There were *no* fucking customers for the first -- well, most of the day, then during the night shift, it was like the place was imploding or something; the Football Chef and the Bangladeshi almost came to blows at one point, then again. And once more. I tore Literate Barmaid a new one over something insignificant, then went over to apologise because I realised that I was reacting to something Fireball Girl had done to me. I told her so, and that next time FG pulled that, I'd call her on it instead of taking it out on poor LB. That seemed to patch things up just fine, but still, the whole staff seemed on edge. Also, the place wasn't exactly humming. I dunno, my tips for to-day: $95. Yeah, as in half what they tend to be for a Friday double.

I've only go one of these left, thank the gods. The usual night busser gets back from Iran on the 20th.

Though I'll miss things like the bump-n-grinding young'uns on the street and, say, the couple who were fucking in their car right out in front of the bar to-night. Stuff llike that adds a certain surreal comedy to any 15-hour shift.

Several of the Americans in the place to-night complained about the fact that the Loonie has just gone up and up and up. Apparently they liked it better a few months ago, when the Canadian buck was about 52 cents US. This 72-cent dollar thing is really cutting into their drinking money.

I told one of them that it was because unlike the good ol' US of A, we actually have an economy. I love saying shite like that to them.

Then, at about a quarter past two in the ay-emm, I went downstairs to the bathrooms and smelled smoke. I checked both cans and found nothing, so I went up to get one of the bouncers. He grabbed the keys and we opened the door to the sump room, then hit the dirt as greasy, foul-smelling smoke came billowing out.

Yeah, so we cleared the bar a little early.

Anyway, the pub's still there, and now I'm here and definitely ready for bed. I'm too tired to take a shower. I hope the sheets don't smell like burnt insulation to-morrow...

||Gods save the Queen,

back || forth

older shite

One last little note... - 09.21.2006

de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006

Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006

More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006

Scary stuff - 05.25.2006

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