Swansea, Days 4, 5.

The weirdest part of the whole trip was sitting in the Rhyddings Pub, after strolling campus, in the corner booth where the quiz crew of fall term '07 would rack up losses. The visiting Campus felt definitely like The Past but it was just odd being in the Rhyds again.
Wot the 'ell is a community college? A community is people, right? So what are all other colleges? You amerrricans sure like your convoluted language.
Which is I guess to say that a lot of the trip was, as Wood said: like you never left.

After the wedding, reception, drinking, walking to town, thick pints of Welsh Porter, driving to Mumbles, well, Saturday wasn't going to be too active. I transferred my suitcased life to Wood and Tracy's, got to see the kids, (still cute, still smart) and sit at the table where I was lucky enough to share more than a few meals during my tenure.
Rallied my energy, which wasn't much, for a few at Mozarts with Katie Weston and Liam Hellwood Blues and a Welsh hippie-ish dude named Scott. At first I thought I would collapse into my orange-vodka, but a little time rendered it a really good visit before Katie went back to Southampton, Liam to Bristol and me to sleep.

working/but I'm not working for you!

Weeks worth = 2 entries, roughly. Apparently.
Right now= rain outside. Sunny this morning and me coat/hatless. Waiting it out.

Speaking of Waiting It Out (see what I did there?) lets look at some food-service statistics. The way I see it, all menial jobs have their upsides (free food, good stories, staying in shape if its manual labour) and downsides (obvious.) So this is the breakdown of my four year-plus food-service jobs, starting at the age of 19 at Dennys, right up through my current Pub-tending tradition at teh Rhydz. Lets see which jobs come out on top and how far I've come.

1. Money. The reason you get any job, basically, is money. Even rewarding ones must pay in order to be jobs, not hobbies.
Denny's: Minimum wage, which in Washington State was pretty good, plus tips, which weren't as good as some high-end place, but still left every night with between $20-70, depending.
Port of Subs 20 hours a week behind a sub-sandwich bar for minimum and jar tips split between four people. Left every day with maybe two to five (on a good day) dollars. Enough to buy myself a sandwich on discount, or get a coffee. I have no idea how I survived on this for two years.
Avenue Bread All factors considered, possibly the best. By the end I was making like $9 an hour (amazing considering I was just a sandwich maker/barista) and jar tips were split between up to five people. But usually still left with between $15-30 a day.
The Rhyddings Just above minimum, because luckily, I'm over 22. Every now and then a regular will "put a drink behind" (and I'll usually just pocket the £2.50) because in Britain we don't believe in things like tipping. That's fine. I don't believe in things like giving a shit if my customers have flies in their pints.
Winner/Loser Dennys and Avenue win. The Rhyddings, depressingly, all things considered, is possibly worse for money than Port of Subs. But I get more hours. And there are other factors like. . .

2. Proximity to One's House
Dennny's No. I lived in Lake City. It was in Ballard. I drove the parents' gold mini-van and it took a half hour each way. That's a lot of 107.7 The End to deal with if you forget a mix tape and KEXP is coming in fuzzy.
Port of Subs Down the hill and nearly on the other side of the (tiny) downtown bellingham. So close, but not like next door.
Avenue Bread Depends. A 10 minute bus-ride to the Fairhaven Store (during which I think I lisened to that Raconteurs album a lot) or literal roll down the hill to downtown main. About three streets closer than POS, which makes a psychological difference.
The Rhyddings *Just* closer than the Downtown Avenue. Plus I get to cut through a park if I want.
Winner The Rhyds.

3. Flexibility of Hours
Denny's Theoretical but not in practice. For a while I was scheduled ONLY the shifts I asked for off (including when I was supposed to be paid to do improv) at which point I and a couple other workers got the GM transferred to another store about an hour from his house.
Port of Subs Weekdays 10:30 am- 2:30pm. Everyday.
Avenue Bread Decent enough; you're either getting too many hours or far too few, but they were usually reasonable.
The Rhyds "Hey Kim, I can't work this night." "Why not __________?" "Well, my friend is visiting from Bristol the day before and we're gonna be absolutely wasted. . . " "Cool I'll get Graham/Lauren/Myself to cover it."
Winner Rhyds and Avenue beat out the other two, though Port of Subs had the advantage that I could do it for 4 hours with my brain shut off and therefore it failed to effect my lifestyle whatsoever.

4. Value In Cultivating Starving Artist Stereotype Or conversely, working at a place with enough local-goodwill that it has its own sort of respect granted.
Denny's Would have been much higher if I were a fry-cook.
Port of Subs No. Other than that I was shit-poor.
Avenue Bread "Oh, hey, I've eaten there. They have really good sandwiches."
The Rhyddings You kidding? I'm not only bartending. . . I'm bartending in Wales. The anecdotal value of starting sentences with "Well, when I was working at this local pub in Swansea. . ." is through the roof.
Winner Avenue on Local Goodwill front, but Rhyddings for life-story elements.

5. Good Stories/Interesting Regulars
Dennys Oh yeah. Like the guy who wrote on napkins about Satan and asked me if I thought God hated him for drinking. Or the kids who played D & D all night for the price of one coke and one coffee. Or the girls who left me their e-mails on a napkin, offering to take me to a public hot-tub rental place for an hour.
Port of Subs Jimmy Henry used to order sandwiches regularly and he was pretty interesting wherever he was. Everyone else worked in banks nearby.
Avenue Bread The difference between the Downtown and Fairhaven stores was amazing. Like, seriously. In Fairhaven there was this guy who invited me to his church, but it felt like he was doing it to try to get into the girl I worked with's pants. Somehow. Downtown Tony burned me a bunch of National CDs and we talked about such things when there weren't lines. One of the old guys who always came in actually died right there in the store.
The Rhyddings I wasn't there for The Fight that got Dave drinking again, but I'm pretty sure I've got nearly a book's worth of interesting characters waiting until I don't, you know, work there any more, to pop out of my head. Of course that would mean I wrote a book about bartending.
Winner Denny's has a 0.1 edge in the tie right now.

6. Interesting/Hot Co-Workers or Hey, is the Whole Staff Sleeping Together? Can I get in on that? Maybe just a little?
Dennys More interesting than Hot, but I could name about six or seven off the top of my head that ruled. Nikki, whose house I'd watch movies at after work while her and her bf smoked copious amounts of anything, (sometimes-token) Black Guy Corry, who, when he got a shift he didn't like would say things like "I guess I'm the nigger today." Many other stories.
Port of Subs I worked at all times with one other underling and a Punjab couple (Parmjit and Kudlippe) who ran the store with an iron fist. For about two weeks James "horsewhip" Burns was one of those. Around the same time Grant Cross applied for a job and it looked like we were going to be the most hipster-fried sub shop in all of bellingham. Didn't pan out, though.
Avenue Bread "It is not my 'opinion' that everyone you work with is Fucking Hot. I am simply observing a fact."-- Jake, on my co-workers.
The Rhyddings Its hard to judge when you're still there, actually. Some great folks, some run-of-the-mill, some interesting enough and then there's Huwie.
Winner Avenue for Hot, definitely, with enough interesting mixed in I don't feel entirely shallow saying so. Includes Ellie, who got the poem written about her. Rhyds and Dennys may tie for interesting, if you take into account people like Keiran or Dave Beer. Port of Subs for Movie of the Week elements.

7. Morally Redeeming Elements I.E. Am I working for The Man? Do I hate myself for serving people this terrible food? How crushed is my soul by this? What's cool about this job?
Denny's Totally working for The Man. Chewed through employees like a dog through food. Employee discounts on meals, free soda.
Port of Subs The days I felt really angry or depressed I reminded myself that I was working for a immigrant family-owned franchise. And it was paying for little Jasmine's school.
Avenue Bread Free coffee, sandwiches, pastries at the end of the day. All local ingredients, everything donated to charity at the end of the day. Possibly the Greenest place I've ever seen, and run by completely business-savvy types who didn't do it so much because they were Hippies (they were pretty right-wing) but because hey-- this is smart.
The Rhyds Its not a chain-pub (i.e. reflex) and it services a local neighborhood. So that's good. But employee discounts? Pah. Green? Er, I guess we recycle.
Winner Avenue, by a long shot.


8. General Morale How depressing IS it?
Dennys Fluctuated wildly, depending on the GM. No one wants to work at Dennys for too long, but ironically it was those who'd worked there a while, chain-smoked and read Vonnegut and said that yeah "someday" they'd do something else, but fuck it, who really survived.
Port of Subs "I have to be work here every day. No friends, no life. I can to be very depressed. Is like Jail."-- Kudlippe.
Avenue Bread Depended how hungover we all were. Our boss could tell the difference between really sick and "A Night at Rumours."
The Rhyds We love how much we "hate" it there, but somehow end up there even when we weren't supposed to be.
Winner Er, probably the Rhyds. Due more to personal growth than anything else, or the fact that it all just feels so much like a story.

alright. that's enough. the rain hasn't stopped. I'm going to take some ibruprofen and call a dentist.

. . . and half-dead too/work is for suckers and the sucker is you

As of today, I have been employed by the Rhyddings Hotel for one year.
To "celebrate," we will all enjoy a week's worth of observational Rhyddings and Other Customer Service Experience anecdotal blogging. A look back on the life and times of one Graham Isaac as he hands you unhealthy foodstuffs and drinkstuffs for minimal pay with even less dignity.

To start things off:
Queen are not a terrible band, by any stretch. In fact, they seem to be one of the few not-terrible bands that Angie and Tony (landlady and lord, respectively) like. My short-form, pre-Rhyddings feelings on Queen went like this: Like Led Zeppelin before them, they're plenty good in their own right, but they are a bad band for other bands to try to be. And a lot do.

Still:
5 Songs by the Rock Band Queen That, After Working At the Rhyddings Pub, I Can No Longer Even Imagine Enjoying, Even Ironically, Even With My Best Friends On A Summer Day, Ever, Under Any Circumstance

5. A Crazy Little Thing Called Love-- Know who else other bands/artists shouldn't try to be? ELVIS*.
4. We Will Rock You-- Buddayarrastraahngmanyahngmanbuddyyoura-- I feel myself getting stupider every time I hear this song and picture an arena full of hockey/football/basketball fans clapping along, off-time somehow, even though its the easiest song to clap to EV-AR.
3. I Want It All-- I thought this was the Scorpions at first. In a bad way**.
2. Bohemian Rhapsody-- You know what? I've never liked this song. Ever. All my friends liked it because of that scene in Waynes World where they headbang to it in the back of the car. My Chemical Romance re-wrote this song way less shitty in 2006*** and called it Welcome to the Black Parade and we won't have to hear THAT one in 30 years because everyone who deifies MCR will be dead in three years from killing themselves for their Dark Dark Masters.
1. Friends Will Be Friends-- Picture, if you will, this song, which is already the most cliched sort of expression of Friendship ever. Now picture a room full of drunk folks who aren't yours, singing along at top volume. Then they yell at you by name to get them another cider.

and, in a strange about face--

4 Songs By Queen that, Incredibly, I Don't Find That Annoying, Despite Overexposure and Someday May Even Listen to Voluntarily, Though It'll Be A while

4. We Are the Champions-- With the exception of their small, but loyal Theatre Kid Crowd who basically listen to anything you can dress up in stupid costumes to listen to (see also: Decemberists, They Might Be Giants, Dragonforce) most Queen Fans are rabidly homophobic. So the fact that this is a gay-rights anthem makes me happy.
3. Hammer to Fall-- This just sounds like generic Buttrock to me. I thought it was some obscure Guns and Roses song at first. Not bad to pour shitty beer to. I can almost pretend I work in The Office.
2. Another One Bites the Dust-- This is a good song, despite being played at so many sports games and wedding receptions, mainly because it sounds NOTHING like Queen and if you tilt your head and have water in your ears, it almost sounds like early hip hop.
1. Radio Ga Ga-- The chorus goes "All we hear is Radio Ga Ga, Radio Goo Goo". . . by all accounts it should be at the fucking TOP of the last list. But no. Maybe because it forgoes all the Big Rock Guitar shit and tries (fails) almost to be New Wave. But yeah. I actually still actively enjoy this one.

_____________________________________________________________________________
* unless you're the Cramps.
** there isn't really a Good Way, actually.
*** still pretty shitty, really only Less Shitty because its shorter, and I've heard it fewer times, and maybe if really terrible bands keep ripping off Queen people who pretend to be into music will stop trying to make me like them a lot and stop listening to new bands so I can *bask* in Brian May's "awesome" guitar work.

"I can sell you two cans of Hatred, but you can't open them in here."

The Facebook Site for the pub I work at is called "Rhyddings Hotel, Centre of the Universe." Cough. Cough. Cough. I didn't make it. This probably means, however, that I'm entitled to talk about what happens there as it effects everything to occur anywhere, ever.

so here we go: Superhappy Workfun #1.
There's too much longwinded backstory that isn't interesting to get this one across, but I'll try. There's two of the regulars who come by. One is Huwie, who is nicknamed "the horrible cunt" and then there's Ceri, who's a good few decades younger than Huwie, but is his boss. On and off. It's a complex relationship; Ceri often comes in and asks. . . So. . . any horrible cunts around?
No, no sign of odiousness.
Good good. So it hasn't been that loathesome in here today?
Not that I've seen.

It's good banter. Actually, probably 60% of the truly quality banter from the dailies comes from Ceri-- "I'll take a few pints of self-loathing with a chaser of despair and-- oh wait, you don't SELL dignity here, do you?
So it was pretty la-a-ame when Ceri was in a few weeks ago with a good group of mates I'd not seen before and they proceeded to give me and Simon a good bit of shit.
( Parentheticals you probably figure but I'll say anyway--Now-- Taking Shit is part of a bartender's job. Not enough bubbles in your pint? Here, let me pour your pint into a new glass and top it up, wasting what ends up being nearly half a pint of beer just so that your Fosters is foamy enough. Too MUCH head on your beer? Let's just top that up for you. Yes, it sure IS a shame this isn't a "Real Pub." I'll serve you so much faster when you snap your fingers. Etc.--)

But there's Taking Shit and there's some shit-- when one of Ceri's mates' pint was flat after about three new glasses, well, that's not my fault, is it? Plus by now we've put almost a pint and a half in the waste tray just trying to conjure up some bubbles. So then every time I walk past he complains, cusses at me or remarks that he paid £2.60 for this pint and blah blah blah (he actually paid £2.45.)

This isn't what got Ceri banned. Ceri was just sitting there laughing. Would I have liked it if one of my regulars who I'm always quick to serve actually said something-- anything-- to the effect of "come on, guys, I drink here every day, lay off." Yes.
But I wasn't expecting it.
However, when the lot of them started sending texts to the pub phone aimed at Simon saying things like Next time make sure my pint has bubbles in it, you hairy cunt and similarly hilarious bits (revolving around the C-word. I'll miss it's ubiquity when I go home.) that Simon refuses to serve them. I go along with it, because seriously, fuck those guys.
Meanwhile, the "horrible cunt" is sitting at his stool, shaking his head and politely waiting to be served. Ironies.

So if there's one thing I can say for Tony and Angie, it's that they back up their employees. None of this "customer is always right" rot. Tony tells me that he doesn't want those guys in here any more and if Ceri wants to keep drinking here he needs to issue an apology. Now I don't want the guy banned-- I just want his charming friends to leave me alone. However, Saturday night he comes in and gets into a proper Row with Angie and now he's 86ed. Meanwhile, "horrible cunt" now works for us as a cleaner.

Superfunhappytimes #2
Jane has worked at the pub for quite a while now. She's been in and out of the bartrade for a good long time and the customers like her. She is not, however, good at managing her drinking habits in such a way to line up with her schedule. Even by the Rhyddings standards. Which run along these lines-- "If I can go out and get absolutely shitfaced every night and still show up here and do my job for eight hours, you damn well can too."--Kim.
We don't care about hangovers, blurry eyes or cranky tempers. We do care (or I do) when we get texts at 6:30am asking for coverage of the 11am shift. Hypothetically. Which I did because 1) I'm a sucker and 2) I'm good hearted and 3) I'm broke and 4) all of the above.

So working an unexpected 11-5 on a rugby day was fine; but when Simon shows up and asks if I want to cover him because "he's got to do some shit" well. . . alright. Half your shift. Til 9pm. For an even 10 hours.
But when Simon doesn't show to cover the last half of his shift, well, I'm already on a pint of bitter and sure as hell no one ELSE is picking up the slack. So Angie tells Kim to text Simon "If you're not here in 15 minutes don't bother coming back."

Needless to say, he doesn't show. I'm sure he'll have a story. On one hand I feel bad for the guy -- 22 years old, two kids and what sounds like the banshee from hell to contend with, personally. When he didn't show up for a week and returned, teary-eyed and apologetic, Angie let him back.
On the other hand, I believe Nicola put it best when she said: "Well, it serves the stupid twat fucking right for not showing up. Asshole."

Because at the end of the day, yeah man. We've all Got Problems. But we show up.