Oh, Sweet Responsibility, How I Loathe Thee

How do I get myself into these messes? No. Really. Tell me. I need to figure this out, but perhaps I should first tell you what the hell I'm on about. Well, it involves my gainful employ at the Cambie here in Nanaimo, and it's shitstick (I think I'm going to use that phrase quite a bit in the next little while) excuse for a kitchen. Yes, that's right, I've been given permission to fix it. Fix the menu, fix the ordering, fix the whole damn scene.

How ironic, that I've spent five yrs in the kitchen trying to get out, and when I get a job where that's not my first priority, I make it my only one. And this after almost having to quit two days ago after being offered another job at a different bar. I'm still not sure why I can't work at another bar while employed at the Cambie, some sort of conflict of interest clause in my work agreement. Yeah right, thirty hours a week at 9/h is not enough to let me live, so after discussing this particular policy with my GM, we decided that it's horse shit, not to mention completely unrealistic and that I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want and if the Cambie doesn't like it, they can go fuck themselves.

An 11 am wake up call, three cups of coffee and the Supersuckers make for an intersting morning, let me tell you. I'm starting to get a lil homesick sometimes, this afternoon has been spent calling my family and friends back in Calgary, so that they all know I'm alright (really though, I think it's so that I know I'm alright), and I should be spending it working on my proposal for the kitchen.

But fuck it, it's my day off, I'm still in my pajamas, I haven't showered, I'm wired for sound, it's two in the afternoon, and after dealing with all kinds of wierdos and fuckups while working the door last night, the only thing I want to do right now is take a shower and head out for a beer.

What kind of wierdos and fuckups you may inquire, where to start? The liquor laws are a little different out here than they are back in Alberta, and the policies are a lot tighter. You need two pieces of ID out here, no exceptions, so there are a lot of people that don't get into my bar. Is this my fault? No. Am I the one that takes the piss? You bet yer sweet bippy, baby. "C'mon man, I have grey hair, I'm old enough to be yer dad". Yes you do, and no, you're not, but that aside, I can't let you in. This is usually when they hang around and explain: it's okay man, I used to work in a bar. Fan-fuckin-tastic, but now I need to ask: if you know this is the way it works, why are you giving me grief about it? I'm not there(at the door) to make friends, I'm there to make sure that the bar doesn't get shut down for serving a minor. It's not personal, it's just my job.

The cover charge at the door is also my fault. Yes, you have to pay, no I won't let you in cuz you used to work here. Do you work here now? No? Then pay up sucker. "I know the band". Great, do you want them to get paid for this gig? Yes? Then pay the goddamned cover!!!!!

The list of excuses is literally endless, but I can deal w/ drunk assholes, it's the crack heads, and they are plentiful, that really make me want hurt small house pets. My new door policy concerning them is: If you can't afford to keep teeth in your skull, you can't afford to drink in this bar. No, I don't want to buy the porn dvds you "found" in the trash, and our bathroom is not a place to sleep! What the fuck is wrong with these people? Wait, I know first hand what's wrong with these people. Nevermind, I retract the question. I will, for the record state though, that I have never tried to sleep in a pub's bathroom.

Well, to everyone out there, take care of yourselves and I'll see you soon,

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