The tale of saturday night!

Hi

Hows it goin?

This week I have been lucky enough to get some shifts at Vincents, and it's a good thing to, I am very, very broke!

The Manager is on holiday so I worked Wednesday night and the weekend.

This did mean I missed out on a night out with the boys on Friday, but needs must.

The weekend was incredibly quiet, especially Saturday night.

It was busy to start with and then dead.

Unfortunately we had 2 late night bookings coming in at 10:15 pm. This was made worse by the fact that we were incredibly quiet. The night dragged on and on, and eventually it was just me and a table of two who refused to leave.

See?

Luckily for me there was a dance night on in the club below. The constant repetitive thud of the speakers below soon forced them to leave and victory was mine.

The dance night had been organized by Ivano. He arranged for some very well known foreign DJ's.

I can't remember there names.

Althea was working the ticket desk and I stupidly promised I would go down and keep her company.

It was chav fucking central!

If there's one thing I fucken hate, it's chavs! And they were everywhere.

All night in the restaurant I had been taking calls regarding tickets and if they were on sale at the door and would they get in wearing trainers.

When ever the phone rings in the restaurant there is a specific way to answer it, in order to sound professional and polite. This gives the phoning customer the illusion I am professional and polite, and not a miserable bastard who would gladly punch them in the face if they don't stop fucking moaning.

Anyway, it goes like this,

"Good evening Vincents Restaurant, Andy speaking, how can I help?"

After 10 pm the phone had rung so many times about this fucking dance night I changed my traditional phone greeting to this:

"Hello dance night info line."

And I didn't say it a particularly polite way either. I wanted all the chavs phoning to feel more comfortable. I also used such words as "magic" "coolio" and brilliant pal."

So I helped Althea on the ticket desk, I was essentially a bouncer. Which I thought was pretty cool, and as anyone who knows me will attest, I do have a tendency to go mad with power, and I think I did a little bit.

I refused to let anyone in the building without a hand stamp, and I didn't take no shit from anyone!

It was quite cool to be a bouncer, little known fact about me, my granddad was a bouncer until the day he died at the age of 70 something.

Yeah, you don't mess with my family. I certainly don't. I don't even talk to them, that's how fucken scary they are!

So I was hard at work on the door when I realised I had already signed out upstairs, I wasn't getting paid for this. I couldn't be arsed going all the way back upstairs to the restaurant to change my time sheet, so I decided the easiest thing to do was to get paid in beer.

I went back to the bar and helped myself to a bottle of Trade Winds (one of the greatest beers in the world!).

And then 20 minutes later I did the same, and then again, and again, and again. Until I realised I was actually a bit drunk.

See?

Oh yeah, and while I was at the front desk with Althea, I found a hat, with a duck on it!

Regular readers will know that I am a big fan of ducks. This combined with the drunken state that I was in, led me to believe this hat was quite possibly the greatest thing in the universe! It was then I headed up to the second level of the club which I think had somehow become the VIP area, up there was Vinnie the owner with a couple of his mates and a few of the staff. Vinnie said to help myself to the bar, I think when he checks the stock this week he may regret that decision.

Since we were allowed to help ourselves, the shots started flowing, followed by more beer, followed by more shots.

It was then I decided to throw some shapes in the church of dance.

As you know I am a fantastic dancer, and tonight was no exception. I refused to go to the dance floor with the neds, but I did strut my funky stuff by the bar.

I don't mean to brag, but I was ace! I think I could give that flash dance girl a run for her money.

See?


A few people tried to match my supreme dancing skills but they failed miserably.

One of the waitress's even broke out in "The Robot."

Later that night I bumped into my fiancée. Not the first one, the second one.

She pointed out that I was not wearing the engagement ring she gave me a couple of months ago.

I of course apologised and offered her the hat as an engagement gift. She seemed quite chuffed with the deal.

It was then the subject of our wedding came up, she suggested we get married at a festival, I am attending T in the Park this year, she is not. She suggested we get married at Rock Ness. I thought this was an AWESOME idea, and high fived her accordingly. (Just so you know "high fived her" is not a euphemism, I really only high fived her).

Sadly I already have plans on the same weekend of Rock Ness. So I guess my wedding will have to wait.

There is a silver lining to this.

It was a pretty decent night over all. I did essentially RAPE the bar. Which is always nice.

The only downside is someone STOLE The Duck Hat! Who would do such a thing! It was last seen on the head of this man.

A reward will be offered for the safe return of the duck hat!


Finally here's one of my trademark shitty poems to summarise this whole blog entry.

Finally got some work,

to earn some cash.

I'm an irresponsible jerk,

I went out on the lash!

I went to the club,

Instead of the pub.

While all the neds were ravin,

It was a beer I was cravin.

I found a cool hat,

and I danced like a twat!

On the hat was a duck,

but I didn't give a fuck!

I worked on the door,

And I drank until 4!

and then I went home when I couldn't take anymore.

Thats All For Now

Until Next Time

Have A Nice

Andy G

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