I knew I’d hate this job

I’ve been slow to update this blog recently, due to having a lot of shifts to cover at the “VIP” bar. This, however, is a situation that may be about to correct itself. My colleagues and I have theorised that many of us will be let go in the new year, which is not a prospect I find myself alarmed by. Frankly, I’d be happy to leave the place.

Ok, I realise in our current climate I should be grateful for any job, but the truth is I simply dislike the place. I dislike the set-up. I dislike the management, and how we have 16 different bosses telling us 16 different things (though I have no ill-feeling towards my immediate supervisor. She can be a bitch, but I suppose she has to be). One thing that gets to me, for example, is that we can’t leave the premises during our break, which would be perfectly acceptable if we had some on-site facilities other than one vending machine that’s permanently empty. In addition, on one occasion – just as I was starting my break – someone took all the chairs from the canteen. So we had a few dozen people sitting on the floor balancing sandwiches on their knees because apparently there were people in the building more deserving of chairs than we were.

This flippant attitude towards staff can, however, all be overlooked. It’s nothing uncommon for people who work in the service industry. Without question, the aspect that really gets to me, and drives me to want to run from the place screaming, is the customers, the clientele, the vips, or whatever they want to be called. Let me tell you something about these “very important people”, they’re scum. I honestly hate them, and I especially hate having to serve them.

In the past I worked in a 5 star hotel, and enjoyed it. So you might think a VIP bar would be similar. In practice, however, I have found there to be an important distinction. The people who stay at 5 star hotels want the staff to want to help them. They expect to receive the highest service because the staff enjoy providing that service. Simply put, they’re happiest when they know you’re happy. It’s an attitude that assures a level of mutual respect, all of which is absent from VIP bars. The people who go to VIP bars expect you to dance for pennies, because it reaffirms their self-serving belief that they have all the pennies. I had thought that a recession would quieten these people, but it seems to have made them worse. They’re so far up their self-important holes that the prevalence of money equates only to the stink of shit.

Now it’s wrong of me to tar everyone I serve with this brush. I have dealt with some decent, sincere people (for instance, Evelyn Cusack was nothing but nice to me). I must also admit that – because my bar is somewhat of a distance away from the bar the “celebrities” go to (I use inverted commas because, seriously, how pathetic is it to be an Irish celebrity?)  – I don’t have as many phoney scumbags to deal with as some of my colleagues. Still, I can’t help but feel there is something wrong with people who go to gigs and stick to the VIP areas. It’s like people who go on safari holidays and get upset if their hotels don’t have clean linen. Gigs to me are about stale lager in plastic cups, abusive security staff, sneaky naggins of JD, and god-awful hot dogs, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Nothing about rock and roll should be comfortable.

So there you go. This blog might return to being properly unemployed rather than just semi-unemployed. If this happens don’t feel too bad for me. At least I’ll be mostly dealing with normal people again.

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