Its 5 am in the morning; I've been up for half an hour listenning to Test Match Special. That probably means nothing to any of you though Dawn might know what I am on about.
What annoys me about this debacle is not so much that yet again we are losing to our traditional spoorting enemy, The Australians, but the manner in which we are doing so. Do these people have no sense of pride or at least a sense that the country had this bizarre expecatation that they might at least try to win a few games rather than capitulate at the first opportunity.
I would like to start with a complaint. Nobody told me that Lost had re-started. I am completely confused as to what the episode was that I watched and am downloading random episodes in the hope that one of them hits the mark. The last thing that I remember watching, about 6 months ago, was Jack and his little gang being captured by the Others and then it stopped.
Sveta has a complete love-hate relationship with Lost. Apparently they are showing it every night in Ukraine. Everything about it annoys her. The writers are crack-heads, Dr Jack is completely unbelievable. It actually makes her angry. However she then talks about it in such detail that you just know she is watching every moment of it.....
Did you know that it was the feast of St Nicholas tonight? All over Eastern Europe little kiddos are getting presents. I know this as we have just had 50 people from the village come and have a polish Christmas dinner with us. All the profit went to help restore the village hall.....I must be going fucking crazy.
At 10:30 I found myself washing up 50 dessert plates and the grease tray of the industrial oven. This was because I had had enough of the Muppets, aka customers, and their ceaseless wittering. This is why Ana is brilliant; she can smile and put up with it whilst I have to walk away before I am overcome by the need to batter one or two of them.
Thats not to say that some of them aren't great. There are four or five regulars who I really like. Keith, a teacher, with a dry caustic wit, a love of good food and stories of his time as a bouncer as some of Bristol's rougher reggae clubs that make me very nervous. Kenneth, a Danish chiropractor, who is exceedingly kind, an astute businessman and owns a big fuck off yacht which he has invited me to go sailing on next week. But some of them are complete cretins. I don't mind narrow minded bigotry so long as its done with a degree of wit and originality; otherwise it just sounds like whineing. But this is what you get from the majority of regular drinkers...whineing. (Presumably this is why they drink ?). They don't have the self-awareness to realise quite how grotesque they sound, nor do they have the sense to realise that most of them are alcoholics, or if they do have the sense then they are simply in denial.
You hear the most ridiculous comments. For example, the government says that if you drink over 21 units per week you are drinking to excess and damaging your health. We calculate that most of our regulars drink in excess of 70 to 80 units per week. When they calculate this they stand there and deny that they have a drink problem as if the government must have made a mistake or that whilst 21 units might be right for the rest of the population, their personal limit is in fact 100....
But it pays the rent so I suppose one mustn't grumble :p
We did our first Christmas party tonight; 28 people from the business school at Bath University. The food was greeted with acclaim ( although I have to say we all think its a bit mundane), the service exemplary ( I wasn't serving them) and they all had a very jolly time.
Except that they hardly drank anything at all! Whats the matter with these people. I always thought that the point of a Christmas party was to get shit-faced drunk, flirt or fight with your work colleagues and then look shame-faced for about a month afterwards. Indeed, surely thats why we have such a long holiday period over Christmas: so that we don;t have to see the people we insulted or snogged at Christmas do?
It wasn't without incident though. Three hours before kick off one of the guest rang up to inform us that she couldn't eat anything off the menu as she was a vegan....that made us happy. There was also an American who was mad keen on the Christmas pudding and demanded to know how we had made it........making a Christmas pudding properly involves starting in September and injecting alcohol into suet and raisins every two weeks for three months. We didn't bother with that and in fact had bought in cheap puddings that we doused in brandy and then microwaved......of course we didn't tell her that and all mumbled on about recipes passed down from dead grandmothers.....
There was a time in my life, maybe six months ago, when, after a hard days work I might come up to my room, flick on the laptop and scour the web for pictures of naked ladies. No, really. Its true! On the Internet, if you look hard enough you might find all sorts of ladies who have lost their clothes. I felt this was quite marvellous.
Not any more.
Nowadays I finish work, come up to my room, and pull out from under my bed a couple of good cookbooks. Whilst I don't actually pleasure myself whilst reading them I do find them engrossing and they set my mind churning. Food is my porn nowadays.
Oedipa was right. That last blog has been boring me for about three
weeks. Way , way too earnest. A bit like an american jew explainning
Israel's policy on the West Bank. Pah! Humbug. Part of the problem was
Twirl and I. Some will remember that we had something of a hiccup due
to matters that emerged through my last blog. Was it my last blog? No,
there have been three re-incarnations since then. Anyway, the
whingeingbrit caused problems. This lead to The Law Being Laid Down.
The Law Being Laid Down lead to dullness and earnestness. Of which the
latter is far the worse.
So I told that Twirl. I'm starting a new blog. I'm gonna write what I like. When I like. How I like. To which she replied....