Sometimes it is hard to know whether you are flying or in free fall.
- - - -
On Friday afternoon my manager finished her last shift, leaving me and Kim in joint charge of the deli.
At 6:10am Saturday head waitress Kim phoned to say she couldn't come into work that day as she had been broken into a few hours earlier and threatened with death by a man with a hammer.
By 11:30am the cafe was well and truly hammered. By 12noon the deli was going the same way. It became clear that a split shift was not going to be possible.
At about 12:30 Idlewild walk into the deli. Guess who serves them?
At about 1:30 Idlewild's tour manager walks into the deli, and I cheekily swap WiFi access for two guestlist passes to the sold out gig accross the road that night. Score!
At 2:30pm the cafe till stops authorising credit cards. One mad phonecall to Tom (who is in the middle of service for someone's wedding) and the problem is fixed.
At 4:30 I am forced to close the cafe for an hour to let the poor battered chefs re-prep everything.
At 6pm Roddy Idlewild and about a million friends walk into the cafe. Zoe nearly kills herself throwing herself up the stairs to wait on them.
At 10pm, after a fifteen hour shift, we shoot out of the deli, across the road and into Caberet for a fucking amazing acoustic gig.
- - -
Add in another insane nine hours on Sunday, and somehow I have worked 24 out of 48 hours.
So. I am co-managing a deli. I am running into everything headlong and there is no time to think about anything.
I am loving it more than anything I have ever done before.
- - - -
On Friday afternoon my manager finished her last shift, leaving me and Kim in joint charge of the deli.
At 6:10am Saturday head waitress Kim phoned to say she couldn't come into work that day as she had been broken into a few hours earlier and threatened with death by a man with a hammer.
By 11:30am the cafe was well and truly hammered. By 12noon the deli was going the same way. It became clear that a split shift was not going to be possible.
At about 12:30 Idlewild walk into the deli. Guess who serves them?
At about 1:30 Idlewild's tour manager walks into the deli, and I cheekily swap WiFi access for two guestlist passes to the sold out gig accross the road that night. Score!
At 2:30pm the cafe till stops authorising credit cards. One mad phonecall to Tom (who is in the middle of service for someone's wedding) and the problem is fixed.
At 4:30 I am forced to close the cafe for an hour to let the poor battered chefs re-prep everything.
At 6pm Roddy Idlewild and about a million friends walk into the cafe. Zoe nearly kills herself throwing herself up the stairs to wait on them.
At 10pm, after a fifteen hour shift, we shoot out of the deli, across the road and into Caberet for a fucking amazing acoustic gig.
- - -
Add in another insane nine hours on Sunday, and somehow I have worked 24 out of 48 hours.
So. I am co-managing a deli. I am running into everything headlong and there is no time to think about anything.
I am loving it more than anything I have ever done before.
I couldnt get tickets to Idlewild and i bloody work for caberet's ticket people.
Oh my housemate Ian knows Kim who works at Stones. Fact.