Nearly done

Hi

How's it goin?

I haven't blogged properly in ages. Sorry about that. But for anyone who's gives a shit about little old me, here's an update.

I've been pretty busy, but it looks like all my hard work is nearly over. As far as school is concerned anyway. All my paperwork has been handed in, and all that remains is to finish editing my final project.

My final film is called Suburbia University, and is a series of four short stories set within a fictional university. I'll be honest with you, it's not particularly good. I was let down more than once by actors and equipment booking, so my final project has been some what rushed. The really annoying thing is, this is the one I'll get assessed on, all my other projects essentially don't matter. They don't get assessed. This is something I didn't know at the start of the year, which has pissed me off a great deal. I spent a lot of time and effort on my other projects and as a result of that, I had to rush through my main feature. There are people in my class who have just made ONE film this year, some of which are still actually filming, and they are gonna get the same qualification as me. I have made FOUR films! (Five if you count my island film.) It all seems very unfair to me, but I had a good couple of years at school and for the most part I enjoyed my life as a mature student. With any luck I'll be finished the editing on this film by Friday and assuming all my paperwork is fine, that'll be me done. 

My film from last year (as well as several other great student films) is gonna be shown at the Belmont Cinema in Aberdeen, if you're reading this then you're more than welcome to come, CLICK HERE for details. There will be a night out afterwards and I plan on partying for the following three days! 

In the mean time, all is well with me, I'm off to London with Laura for a few days at the end of June so I'm looking forward to that. I have a couple of projects to keep me amused over the rest of the summer. I'm still looking for someone to design a book cover for me. Let me know if you're interested.

In other news, I got a job! I had an interview last week and I have accepted the position as head of sales for a local food company. So that's nice. It's not a job in TV which is what I have been studying for the better part of two years, but it's a job. Which is a rare thing these days. It's a regular job, a Monday-Friday 9-5 job, which is something I've never had before. I'm starting off on basic pay so I'll be staying on part time at Vincents and The Club, for a wee while anyway.

So don't worry, I'm sure I'll be keeping you entertained with stories of the the drunkards I encounter on a regular basis.

That's All For Now

Until Next Time

Have A Nice

Andy G

If you want to get all the crap I write delivered straight to your inbox then go to www.TheBlogOfAndyG.com and put your email.

If you do subscribe then I will weave you a pair of trousers made of solid gold!

Another Fun Filled Night at The Club

Hi

How's it goin? 

I've been working a lot recently, well not a lot, but more than usual. This is partly due to my incredibly dire financial situation and partly because things at Vincents and The Club have been busy. Student night is now officially finished for the summer. Which is bad as it means one less shift a week, but good as it means no more dealing with drunken asshole students. Last week I saw a guy taking a piss in the corner by the stairs, when I got the doorman to thrown him out he simply said,

"I didn't know where the toilet was." I told him he could come back in if he paid me the £100 it would cost to clean the carpet. He went off in search of a cash machine and never returned.

I also had a record number of drunken people getting taken away in ambulances. Three in one night. In the space of an hour. 

Last Saturday was not particularly busy, I was kept entertained by my classmates Cat & Maija coming in for a drink or two. They were both very, very drunk. I had let a couple of the staff finish early (including the infamous Bitchface) as it was quiet, they decided to join Cat and dance like a bunch of twats. I filmed it for you as I know you're desperate to see it. 

If you can't see the video above then stop reading this crap on facebook and CLICK HERE

After watching these two idiots dance, I went back to work. A short while later I found a notepad behind the bar. I have no idea how long it's been there, or what it's actually for. This is what I found written in it.

I do not know who wrote all this slanderous comments about Danny and Laura S (A.K.A. Bitchface.) And I would like to state in no uncertain terms that the comments written about Danny in that notepad are completely untrue. The stuff about Bitchface I can believe.

Later that night the other manager, Gav, came by and made some drinks. Here's an instructional video on how to make a Dr Pepper.


If you can't see the video above then stop reading this crap on facebook and CLICK HERE

That's All For Now 

Until Next Time

Have A Nice

Andy G 

If you want to get all the crap I write delivered straight to your inbox then go to www.TheBlogOfAndyG.com and put your email address in the wee box that says "subscribe."

If you do subscribe then I will reveal the secret location of The Club and buy you a drink.

Even More Conversations From The Club

Hi

How's it goin?

It's time for another thrilling tale of my adventures in The Club.

It was St Patricks day a couple of weeks ago. A day universally recognised as the day you must go out and drink until you bleed. Just like the irish do. Paddy's day is a busy day in any pub or club, but we were choc a bloc. We were full to capacity before midnight, it was mental. 100% of the customers were blootered. 90% of the customers attempted to get discount by pretending to be Irish.  

There was more drama at the cloakroom, with one girl in tears saying that her purse had been stolen, and along with it, her cloakroom ticket. 

She then took out her purse to show me there was no ticket. I asked her how she got it back if it had been stolen? She claimed that someone found it outside and returned it to her because it had her ID in it. She was crying, a lot, saying her friends had left her, all her cards and money had been stolen, she just wanted her coat and wanted to go home. But with no ticket, she has to wait until the end of the night. I can't risk any mistakes and this drunk girl walking off with the wrong coat.

She then cried louder. Claiming this wasn't fair. Everything had been stolen from her. She then showed me her purse again in an attempt to emphasise her point. The funny thing is, when she showed me her purse I clearly saw a £10 note, and all her bank cards. I pointed this out to her and she said that the thief obviously didn't take everything.

So as I understood the situation, someone stole her purse, but she somehow managed to get it back, and the only thing which was actually stolen was the cloakroom ticket.

She then just cried louder. I told her to wait until the end of the night if she wanted her coat. I never saw her again. 

I suspect she is a con artist.

Last week was yet another busy week at Student Night. It's the last one for a a few weeks as it's easter holidays, so the organisers don't think it's going to be busy. Which is fine by me as it means a Thursday night off.

It was a very busy final night. Full to the brim yet again.

We have started to perform bag checks as people come in now. This is because there is not a week that goes by when I don't find at least one bottle of vodka on the floor at the end of the night. One night I found 3 bottles of vodka and 2 bottles of rose wine. We're not exactly expensive on student night, yet the cheapo students still find the need to sneak in their own stuff. This has led to many people getting to the front of the queue, being asked to check their bags and then disappearing round the corner to down a  bottle of vodka or supermarket wine before they come in.

Classy people.

Some people still manage to get some stuff in however. This past Thursday, two guys were standing at the bottom of the stairs and they dropped a bottle of Buckfast.

Buckfast? Really?

How scummy are you aiming to be?

The bottle smashed all over the floor and the two guys just walked away innocently pretending to know nothing about it. I had the doormen escort them both from the building. They both claimed, 

"I don't drink Buckfast." 

I shouted back at them, 

"Not anymore tonight you're not."

Dickheads.

I didn't shout the dickheads bit, they were both bigger than me and they might have been waiting outside for me later.

At the end of the night, the staff and I sat down for another well earned beer. It was this night that I discovered that barmaid Laura, (also known as Bitchface) has another nickname, BJ Laura. I don't know what the BJ stands for, I'll try and find out and let you know asap.

We then discovered what it would be like if BJ Laura/Bitchface was in a relationship with Lewis the Bartender.

If you can't see the video above then stop reading this crap on facebook and CLICK HERE.

That's All For Now

Until Next Time

Have A Nice

Andy G

If you want to get all the crap I write delivered straight to your inbox then go to www.TheBlogOfAndyG.com and put your email address in the wee box that says "subscribe."

If you do subscribe then I will tell you what the BJ stands for in BJ Laura.

More Conversations From The Club

Hi

How's it goin? 

It's been a busy few weeks in the life of Andy G. Lots of school work to be done and movies to be made. But I have to pay the bills somehow. So I'm still working in The Club when I can.

A few weeks ago we had a big name DJ in. I say big name DJ, I'd never heard of him, but apparently he was kind of a big deal. The place was packed. 800 people were in. It was the busiest night I'd seen in a very long time. It was a ticket only event and the tickets had sold out a couple of weeks earlier. All day the phones had been going with people asking for tickets. It was tres annoying. (That's french for very annoying.) About an hour before we opened I was busy setting up the bar, when the doorbell rang. I assumed it was staff so went to check, otherwise I would have ignored it. It wasn't staff, it was a woman trying to get in.

Andy: Hi, can I help?

Woman: Yeah, I'm here for the show.

Andy: Alright, we don't actually open until 9. It's only 8 o'clock.

Woman: The ticket says 8.

Andy: No it doesn't.

Woman: Yes it does.

The woman then gets out her ticket, checks it, and has a look of stupidity on her face.

Woman: Oh, never mind then.

Andy: No problem.

Woman: I have a spare ticket, do you want it?

Andy: What?

Woman: Do you want to buy my ticket?

Andy: No, I work here.

Woman: Yeah, but do you want a ticket for the show tonight?

Andy: No, I work here, I am working here tonight. Why would I want to pay for a ticket when I am working here.

Woman: Oh yeah. Do you have any friends?

Andy: Yes, lots.

Woman: Do any of them want a ticket.

Andy: I doubt it.

Woman: Are you sure?

Andy: Yes, if my friends wanted a ticket they could have got one from me, that's just one of the many advantages of having me as a friend.

Woman: I see. So you don't want a ticket?

Andy: No.

I then slammed the door in her face.

Why would I want a ticket to the show I am working?

Stupid fooking cow.

As I said this night was particularly busy, and the problem with that, is that at the end of the night, 800 people try to get their coats from the very small cloakroom all at the same time.

It's mental.

The queue is a dangerous place to be.

At one point Vinnie (my boss) grabbed me and he and I attempted to police the queue. However I don't wear a suit to work, and I don't have a name badge. So to the general public, we look like a couple of idiots just messing about with the queue for fun. I did try to explain this to the people I was trying to hold back, but they all demanded proof to see that I was the manager. Several people asked to see my badge, and they refused to believe that a manager would not wear a badge. Eventually I convinced my boss that the doormen should be doing this, while we observed from a safe distance.

One particularly drunken twat decided to try and cause a riot by screaming abuse.

"Come on guys, lets just shout abuse until they give us our fucken jackets." He screamed.

He then continued to shout a lot of abuse in the general direction of the cloakroom. I politely asked him to stop shouting and to join the queue or he would be removed from the building.

"Who the fuck are you like? You fucken prick!"

"I'm the manager, he's the doorman, and you're the drunken twat who's getting chucked out. Cya later dickhead."

I'm not gonna lie, that felt good.

It got to around 3:30 am and the cloakroom queue was still pretty long, but moving fairly quickly. One woman attempted to complain me. She said that this queue was a disgrace and that she was working at 8am the next day. I informed her that the cloakroom had been open all night and she didn't have to wait until the end of the evening to get her coat. And if she was working at 8am, she really shouldn't have been out so late in the first place.

A woman standing behind her then added in,

"Yeah you stupid bitch!"

The moaning woman shut up and waited her turn, while the woman who called her a bitch got jumped to the front of the queue.

I live by a simple rule in hospitality, if you're good to me, I'm good to you. If you're a knob, you'll get fook all from me.

We do a student night once a week, and its pretty busy, although it's not to everyones taste. One girl went storming out the door saying,
"I'm not gonna lie to ya, thats the shittest club in Aberdeen."
I asked her if she'd ever been to The Priory.

Also that night, a drunken woman saw me come down the stairs and said,


Drunk woman: Is there another floor?


Andy: Yes.
I then pointed to the stairs.


Drunk woman: Is it upstairs?


Andy: Yes, that's why I am pointing at the stairs.


Drunk woman: And it's open now?


Andy: Yes, that's why I just managed to come down those stairs and I am now directing you to them, and all these other people are walking up them. See?


Drunk woman: So, I'm allowed upstairs?


Andy: Yes of course.


She seemed over joyed at this, so much so that she screamed with delight, gave me a hug and ran off to find her pals who then all went upstairs giggling. I'm not entirely sure why. Upstairs is open every week, and it's not much better up there than it is done stairs. I suspect she may have thought it was the VIP area or something. She would be in for a massive disappointment


Half an hour later she had to be carried out by her mates cos she was too drunk to stand. Fookin students!


At the end of a long night in The Club, myself and the staff quite often have a well earned beer. And sometimes a snack. Here's a video of one of the barman enjoying an afterwork beverage and a nibble.

If you can't see the video above then stop reading this crap on facebook and CLICK HERE

That's All For Now

Until Next Time 

Have A Nice 

Andy G 

If you want to get all the crap I write delivered straight to your inbox then go to www.TheBlogOfAndyG.com and put your email address in the wee box that says "subscribe."
If you do not subscribe then you will be forced to eat a jar of worms a day, every day, until you do subscribe.

Conversations From The Club

Hi

How's it goin?

So for the past few weeks I have been enjoying a more regular working schedule. I barely worked from just before christmas until near the end of January, and finances took a bit of a hit. Lately I have been working in The Club more often. I much prefer working in the restaurant, but I will go where I am told like a good little monkey.

Regular readers will have read The Tale Of the Flaming Fashion Show.

Here are some of the other highlights of nights in The Club.

It was a student night, a very busy student night. Over 600 people in the building. And the drunken students were being there usual drunken selves. The end of the night couldn't come fast enough. And when 2 am eventually arrived, the inevitable queue at the cloakroom ensued. 600 people all trying to get their jackets at once, it's chaos. It's like that every week.

One girl (who looked a little bit like Missy Piggy) even said to me,

Miss Piggy Girl: This is ridiculous, it's like this every week you know.

Andy: I'm sorry, theres nothing I can do.

Miss Piggy Girl: Well that's not good enough, it was exactly the same as this last week.

Andy: Well you really should have known better and got your jacket earlier then shouldn't you?

Dozy cow!

Regular readers will know how much I hate name droppers. This is a prime example of name dropping back firing.

About 30 seconds after this conversation, a slightly older man approached me, attempting to go upstairs to use the toilet. Upstairs was closed so I of course told him no. To get to the downstairs toilet, he would need to somehow make his way through the massive queue for the cloakroom that was currently blocking the corridor to the mens room.

He asked if I could get him through the queue. I asked him how he thought I could accomplish this any better than he could. All he had to do was say excuse me to a couple of people, but to him this was apparently an impossible task. He then asked again to get upstairs, 

Drunk Guy: Why can't you let me upstairs?

Andy: Because we're closed up there and I have staff counting money so I can't let you up.

Drunk Guy: Look! I used to be entertainments manager here, I know Vinnie very, very well.

Andy: Ok.

Drunk Guy: Well?

Andy: Well what?

Drunk Guy: Are you going to let me up to use the toilet?

Andy: No, I told you, I have staff counting cash upstairs, I don't know you. You're a stranger to me. You could be a nutter, or a robber.

Drunk Guy: I told you, I use to be entertainments manager in this building and I know Vinnie very, very well.

Andy: I see. Let me ask you, when you were entertainments manager here, how many times did someone try to get away with something by name dropping Vinnie to you?

Drunk Guy: What? What do you mean?

Andy: When exactly were you entertainments manager here?

Drunk Guy: 2006. 

Andy: Really? 2006? That's odd. Because in 2006 I was the restaurant manager upstairs. And I was working in this building 6 days a week. Both in the restaurant and The Club. So don't you think it's odd that we never met? We should have crossed paths at some point surely?

He then walked off in a huff.

Prick. 

Then, last Saturday, it was a salsa night in the club. It's not very exciting. They get a lesson for an hour then it's a salsa disco. Some people take it very, very seriously. It's like watching strictly come dancing but with twats. Actually, its just like watching strictly come dancing. Just no Brucie.

The night starts at 9pm, and at 8:30 the doorbell rang. I went to open the door expecting to find a staff member trying tog e in, or maybe the DJ to get set up. What I found was a woman who looked like an ugly Billie Piper who was apparently desperate to get in.

Andy: Hello, can I help?

Ugly Billie: Yeah, I'm here for the salsa lesson, I'd like to come in.

Andy: Sorry. That doesn't actually start until 9.

Ugly Billie: Ok, I'll just have a drink while I wait.

She then attempts to barge past me. And fails.

Andy: Sorry, maybe I wasn't clear, we don't actually open until 9.

Ugly Billie: 9 o'clock?

Andy: Yes.

Ugly Billie: When's that?

Andy: About an hour after 8.

She then shot me the bitchiest of bitchiest looks.

Ugly Billie: What time is it now?

Andy: About half past 8.

Ugly Billie: So how long until I can come in?

Andy: Well if we're open at 9....

Ugly Billie: Yeah?

She had a very blank expression on her face, I don't think her brain could process all the information that was given to her. Obviously I had presented her with far too complex an equation.

Andy: About half an hour.

Ugly Billie: But why can't I come in now?

Andy: Because it's not 9 yet.

Ugly Billie: So?

Andy: Well we don't open until 9.

Ugly Billie: Uh huh.

Andy: You do understand english don't you?

Ugly Billie: Ummmm, yeah of course. We're talking english aren't we?  So can I come in now?

Andy: No! We are not open until 9pm. There are no staff here yet, I am still setting up, the DJ isn't even here yet, we will not be open until 9pm. 

Ugly Billie: So what you're saying is, I can't come in right now?

Andy: Correct, not for another half hour.

Ugly Billie: Fine then, if you don't want my money. Fuck you!

She then walked off into the night, presumably to the nearest bar and had an equally confusing conversation with some poor barman about the price of a blue wicked and an aftershock.

Fooking people.

So there you have it, three pretty boring and pointless conversations that take up my time as a busy restaurant/night club monkey.

That's All For Now

Until Next Time 

Have A Nice 

Andy G 

If you want to get all the crap I write delivered straight to your inbox then go to www.TheBlogOfAndyG.com and put your email address in the wee box that says "subscribe."

If you do subscribe then if you ever come to Vincents for dinner I will buy you a complementary shot. And I'll have one too. Maybe two or three.

The Tale of Last Friday: A big poop, robot pets and the flaming fashion show.

Hi

How's it goin? 

And as the weekend approaches, only three more days remain in the retelling of a week in the life of Andy G. Here is what happened last Friday.

Friday February 4th 2011

The morning was something of a wasted morning. Depends on how you look at it.

I didn't actually wake up until noon. So I did catch up on some much needed sleep, but this meant I didn't do anything productive. I then watched all my favourite american TV shows that aired last night in the states. The Office, Parks and Recreation, The Big Bang Theory, 30 Rock and Community. None of these shows have a particularly large audience in the UK, which is a shame as they are all really, really good. Anyway, this took up another hour and a half of my time. 

I decided to try and do something constructive with my day, so I went for a run. I took Grappa The Crazy Killer Demon Dog From Hell with me, as an attempt to be friends. She then thanked me by having the biggest poop I have ever seen in my life. I hate the dog!

Speaking of Grappa, I received this amusing tweet from fellow blogger, Ian. S. Davidson.

I was intrigued, I do hate Grappa, and I do love Star Wars.

This is the link he sent me.

If you can't see the video above then stop reading this crap on facebook and CLICK HERE.

I WANT ONE!!


How cool a pet is that?


It was another night working in The Club for me. Tonight was a fashion show, followed by a salsa dance night.


I'm not gonna lie to you, it was pretty dull.


I arrived at 6:30 and the place was pretty much ready to go. All the tables and chairs were in position and arranged so the models could do their thing. The organiser also had some of her own candles on the tables. They were small tea light candles in a white ceramic pot, as opposed to our large red candles in a glass jar. They looked kinda nice and added something to the atmosphere of the room.
Twenty minutes later I discovered that the candles were not in a ceramic pot, they were in a PAPER HOLDER!!!


FOOKING PAPER!!


Paper + Candles = Fire!


I ran over to a table that had caught fire, grabbed a beer from a neighbouring table, and extinguished the fire. 
A bottle of San Miguel saves the day again.
Fortunately it was just the candle holder that had caught fire, and not the tablecloth and the whole damn table.
Fooking idiots!


I promptly removed all of the organisers candles and replaced them with our own. She asked me why and I said that we are not keen on burning down the building.


The show took ages, and was not overly exciting, 30 seconds before it started a woman came up to me and asked for the microphone.
"What microphone?" 
Was my response. She just assumed we had a microphone for her, we don't have any mic's in the building, anytime something like this happens they use their own equipment. This woman seemed quite annoyed at me.
Hmmmm
Not my fault you're not prepared luv!
After the show came the Salsa night, it was not very exciting, although one guy was spinning on the dance floor faster than I had ever seen anyone spin, ever.
At one point during the evening I saw a couple do that link arms and drink thing.
You know, this thing...

And they weren't doing it ironically. This wasn't an attempt to be funny, they were dead serious every time they did it. And they did it about 10 times. Sometimes two or three times with the same drink. Weirdos.


Around midnight, the bouncer told me that a customer told him that we were open until 2am tonight. I had checked the paperwork for this booking, and I had checked with the organiser before we opened. We were closing at 1am. So where this guy got the idea we are open until two is beyond me. Then I spotted the poster for this event.
And there it was clear as day, 9pm-2am.
BASTARDS!
Well the organiser woman told me 1am, and the bouncers are paid until 1am, so that's when we're fooking closing.


After what seemed like years, 1am finally rolled around, and the music stopped, the lights went up, and we started cleaning up. All the customers started making their way out, but then one guy demanded to see the manager.


He was going mental!


He just kept shouting that the ticket says 2am, and he paid to stay until 2 am. This isn't fair. I explained that we were simply providing the venue and the posters were wrong and the fault of the organiser, he then demanded I call the organiser immediately. She had, very wisely, left about an hour ago. Presumably because she knew this would happen. I told the guy complaining that she had left but he demanded her number. I refused. He couldn't seem to understand that I was not going to give him, a loud drunkard, the organisers number so he could call her at quarter past 1 in the morning to complain about us closing at 1. He demanded I do something.  I gave him the e-mail address for The Club and told him to send us a message and we would pass it on. That was the best we could do. He then said this wasn't good enough, and he was going to complain about me, he asked for my name an if I was the manager. I gave him the standard response, my name is Phil.

That's All For Now

Until Next Time

Have A Nice

Andy G

If you want to get all the crap I write delivered straight to your inbox then go to www.TheBlogOfAndyG.com and put your email address in the wee box that says "subscribe."
If you do subscribe then on your death bed, you will receive a moment of perfect consciousness.

The Tale of Last Thursday: Washing machines, potential plagiarism and a pack of fluffy condoms?

Hi

How's it goin? 

So continuing my series of posts about a week in the life of Andy G, here's the story of Thursday.

Thursday February 3rd 2011

Today was gonna be a slightly annoying day. Last week the washing machine in Campaworld broke down. A new one was arriving today, and not a moment too soon as I was rapidly running out of pants. However, the only information we had from the delivery company was that it would arrive sometime between 7am-8pm. I had school at 3pm that day, so the atmosphere in my house was tense.  Would I make it in? Wouldn't I? 

I didn't.

The washing machine didn't arrive until after 4 o'clock. So I never made it into class. This was annoying but I kept myself busy with some paperwork that needed doing. When the machine arrived I somehow managed to get it all working myself. I am strangely proud of myself for this. To most people the installing of a washing machine is quite a simple task, but I am not most people. Many simple domestic tasks are way beyond my skill set. Things such as hovering and washing the dishes, are far too complex for a slob of a man like me.

After sitting in front of the washing machine watching my t-shirts swirl round for half an hour to make sure the damn thing didn't explode or anything, I headed to town. I was meeting Laura for tea before work, we returned to Henrys. It was once again very good, but sadly this time we received no secret curly fries.

After dinner we headed to Boots as recently I have been feeling full of the cold. Some Lemsip Max was very much needed. As I was browsing the Lemsip section of the shop, I over heard a conversation between a young couple in the aisle behind me. They appeared to be having a very in depth discussion about condoms.

Girl: So which one's should we get?  

Boy: I'm not sure, what's the difference between the red and the blue packets, is it the colour of them? I don't want it to dye my, you know, red or blue. (I can only assume by "you know" he means his knob.)

Girl: Well this one says extra safe.

Boy: Well let's get them then, do they have them in my size?

Girl: It doesn't say.

Boy: It might be too big for me.

(Unlucky)

Girl: Well what about the red ones.

Boy: What kind are they?

Girl: It say's feather light, does that mean they're fluffy?

Boy: I don't know, let's just buy the blue ones.

They then promptly walked over to the counter to pay for them and sniggered, a lot.

I then headed to work, en route I bumped into a couple of my classmates. I took the opportunity to ask if I missed anything important today.

Apparently I had. 

Several members of the other class doing my course have been accused of plagiarism. Apparently several of them copied one girls essay almost word for word. I do not know how many people are involved or the exact details. But how stupid do you have to be to think you're not gonna get caught? There are only 15 people in the class and all the essay's are being marked by the same teacher.

Fucking muppets.

This is however just a rumour at the moment, I do not know any of the facts in this case, and this all may very well be untrue. In which case I just called a bunch of people some muppets for no good reason. But I don't really care.

Eventually I made it into work and helped to set up The Club. Below Vincents there is a night club, I usually only ever work in the restaurant but lately I've been left in charge of the club more and more. Something I'm not overly keen on. We have a student night every Thursday. It's a pretty good deal, you pay £5 to get in and all drinks are either £2 or £2.50. Pretty decent.

When I arrived I was shown how to set up the DJ booth and the lighting for the night. I have worked in this building for, on and off, over 5 years. And I have always avoided learning this, because once you know it you're stuck with it, it's your responsibility. So it looks like I'm gonna be left in charge of student night a lot more often. This is good news on the financial front as I am very broke, but it does mean late nights and dealing with drunkards. I much prefer he restaurant, people are generally better behaved and you get finished at a much better time. But I will go where the money is.

The following conversation will give you an idea of the type of people who come to student night.

Drunk Student: How much is a vodka?

Andy: Vodka, Gin and Bacardi with a dash are £2, everything else is  £2.50.

Drunk Student: So how much is a Vodka coke?

Andy: £2

Drunk Student: So what about a Bacardi?

Andy: I just told you, Vodka, Gin and Bacardi with a dash are £2, everything else is £2.50.

Drunk Student: What about a beer?

Andy: Is that a Vodka, Gin or Bacardi?

Drunk Student: No.

Andy: And I just told you Vodka, Gin and Bacardi with a dash is £2 and everything else, which would include beer, is £2.50.

Drunk Student: Right

Andy: So how much do you think a beer is?

At this point he appeared to be concentrating very hard, as if every single brain cell in his stupid little head was trying to figure out how much a beer is, even though I just told him. Then after what seemed like an eternity, he said...

Drunk Student: What about a Gin and Tonic?

I walked away and avoided serving anyone else for the remainder of the night.

That's All For Now

Until Next Time

Have A Nice

Andy G

If you want to get all the crap I write delivered straight to your inbox then go to www.TheBlogOfAndyG.com and put your email address in the wee box that says "subscribe."

If you do subscribe then I will get you into student night for free at The Club, and buy you a Vodka coke, but only if you tell me how much it would cost.