……the…..dishes NEVER stop coming! The dishes, plates, bowls, whisks, ramekins (fucking whore ramekins are the worst!), spoons that gather shite in the spoon part, forks that tangle, knives that HURT your hands and filthy, gross scraps of food that gather around the bottom of the sinks!!!! These things are awful,
there are some good things;
- A free meal, one of the chefs made me some french fries and chicken nuggets, lovely woman she was.
- Free alcohol……not sure how to feel about it, but the option is there if I ever relapse hardcore. At least 3 times today, I was offered a beer or a glass of wine. I declined.
- Drop dead gorgeous waitresses! Oh boy, what a time to be alive! One of them seemed to be quite interested in me too. *fist pumps*
- A chance to be out in the sun, believe me, all I did was primarily dishwashing, but the sinks I was working at were situated right near a window, a window showing a view of the very beautiful wine-growing areas of South Australia, it’s so pretty.
What I really do not like, though, is the busboys. Male models who do nothing difficult at all! The hardest they have to work is to carry a plastic crate full of dainty glasses, oh the hell of it! They also don’t scrape enough of the food off of the used plates, “uhm hello? There’s still a fucking half a pig on that plate, Sebastian!”
I think I cut rather a strange figure when I worked that trial shift today. Basically every other male who worked there were hipster types, just impeccably groomed, great hair, beards and all that shit (and a certain lack of personality, they just seem dead behind the eyes to me!) – except for the Sous chef, who talked me around the kitchen at first, he was a crazy guy, talked to himself a lot, talked crazy things, but not in a negative way, in a funny, crazy way, you know. Then there was me………hair down to my shoulders, skinny, pale-skinned, not at all a hipster, I could feel the head of food and drink, a bloke called Ezra looked me up and down when we were first introduced, I could see the disappointment in his eyes, haha, just gave me a look of “You SOOOO don’t take care of your appearance, do you darling?” That’s probably why I got along great with the Sous Chef, we had some laughs together and talked for a while, because we’re both just fucking weird guys!
Anyway, I’m not exactly ecstatic about this job that I will be continuing next week, washing dishes sucks arse, but it’s money, and that’s what I need right now, it’s got to be better that telemarketing or selling pamphlets on the street, eh?