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Well, it seems like everyone on Barbelith is having a shitty time, splitting up and having relatives die. I don't think I'll be returning to my employers, the Carnoustie Golf Course Hotel and Spa...
My night's trauma is nowhere as bad as all the other ones I've seen here, and best of luck to all of you in pain just now; 'the bad feeling goes away', eventually.
Now, the owner of the aforementioned establishment is a fat fucking pig, obviously. He's from suburban Dundee, too, which means he is mental also. He's also about 6'3"-4" and built like a thug (and, also, as I say, fat.) Tonight I had the pleasure of being his barman, up until about 3am. He'd gotten drunk with a group of South African businessmen/golfers, but had been reasonably pleasant to me.
As I performed the closing procedures of stocking up the bar, etc. he went behind reception and assaulted the receptionist-cum-accountant, a very pleasant man called Dave. After the fracas, Dave informed him he was 'not a very nice man', and that he ought to 'fuck off.' Things calmed down for a while, they were chatting, and I was mopping the bar.
...some other stuff...
He, my boss, came into the bar and told me to 'fuck off home'. As I am supposed to mop and close the bar, I informed him this was what I was doing. "Mopping bars is for arseholes. Be an arsehole.", I was informed upon returning to my task. So I stopped, and told him that (as I didn't want to be perceived as an arsehole) I would indeed go home. He helpfully informed me, as I made my way to leave that if I wanted to go ahead with anyone, he was indeed my man. I looked him in the eye and continued on my way. As I had my jacket on to leave, he told me to make him a coffee. I said that I wouldn't, I was going home.
At reception I discovered two police, speaking to a general manager who had been recently awoken. Dave was sitting in the back room of reception, quite close to tears. I don't know if he'd been attacked again. The police asked if I'd seen the attack - I hadn't, it had been witnessed by a kitchen porter and cleaner, who was, in the interim period, sacked and now apparently absent. I told them what had happened - well, the 'arsehole' bit, and left.
I've since smoked a poorly made joint, and typed this and a couple of other posts. I'm quite adrenalised.
I think I shall attend my Citizen's Advice Bureau and JobCentre tomorrow. |
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