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Honestly, Beautifully : honey blade

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2002-08-26 - 1:20 p.m.

Joy.

Well, today it's bank holiday Monday. Today it's also the second day of the Notting Hill Carnival. The main day. The one where they're expecting a few million people to show up.

If you've been reading up till this point and hearing me speak with an enthusiastic voice, then stoppit. Now. Because nothing could be further from the truth.

Bank holiday Mondays are one of the banes of my existence, along with spiders and stupid people. And why is that, I hear you ask?

It's because I'm working.

Bank holiday Fridays are usually as dead as dead can be because people go away for the weekend. But of course, they come back on bank holiday Monday and, since the family members are all tired and they can't be bothered to cook even if they do have something in the fridge, they order food.

Bank holiday Mondays cause the uber-stupid quotient of the food-ordering public to crawl out of the woodwork. And the main event at the Notting Hill Carnival is only going to make things worse.

Brief aside: why do people here, when referring to the carnival, like to drop the "the"? Even the newsreaders on the BBC do it. "Well, Carnival is nearly upon us, let's go over to Isobel Lang for the weather. So, Isobel, will Carnival be hot and sunny?" Surely this is the epitome of bad grammar. Or one of them, anyway, I don't want to steal the limelight from goth "writing"...

Ahem.

Those who've been reading from the beginning may remember my account of work on bank holiday Monday last year. If not, then I'll give you a basic rundown.

Insanely busy. Skiving dispatcher. Orders going out late. Customers complaining because there's an hour-and-a-half wait. Skiving dispatcher decides he wants to take orders but just chats up the girls instead. Skiving dispatcher sends large orders to the wrong kitchen because he's an idiot and then denies all knowledge afterwards. HB threatens to resign if he so much as looks into the office in the future.

Granted, we won't have the skiving dispatcher this year but to make up for that we have the third kitchen. Yes, last year we had two to deal with, this year we've got three and the dispatcher in the third one is a muppet. How much of a muppet? Well, let's see...

Manager: OK, we're expecting this Friday to be quite busy. How many drivers do you think you'll need?
Dispatcher: Hmm... three will be enough.
Manager: Umm... OK. If you get in trouble we can always close your kitchen for a while...
Dispatcher: NO! We can handle it!

So, yes. I'm not looking forward to this evening in the least. I'm already cursing all our customers in advance for being lazy fuckers.

Enjoy your bank holiday, people, but think of us poor people who don't bloody GET a holiday.

On top of all this, I get to spend what little free time I get today studying for my exam tomorrow morning. If I'd known the bloody carnival was this weekend I'd have asked for the night off. Not that they'd have let me have it, mind, since the other duty manager had the foresight to skive in advance. Grrr.

Lucky Neko, sleeping like a kitten. I want to sleep too... =sniff=

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