b & a slaughterhouse (part I)

this week, and especially today, has just been downright ruddy fantastic. all my fretting about the summer has gone now. but although it’s a weight off my mind, the excitement for the upcoming summer has now completely thrown me off balance and i doubt much work will get done in the near future.

first things first. last wednesday, i went to the careers centre to a ‘job fair’ to try and get a job for summer. pff! what choice! such varied careers? what shall it be, i wonder, either working in the nursing home, waitressing in betty’s teashop (which is a nice glass cafe, so in the summer i’d be cooked in the greenhouse), everywhere telesales, telesales, telesales.. and last but not least, i could’ve have to opportunity to work at b & a slaughterhouse. this was the choice. i kid you not.

but there was one that both me and claire applied for, that was to work in the york le meridien nice four star hotel. well, i decided to go home last weekend, and i got a text from claire saying that she’d got a job doing bar work and did she want her to open mine? i said yes. turns out we both have the same job! working behind the hotel bar. fab stuff. my induction date is the 4th august but claire won’t be home from malta until the 14th, so *sniff* we’ll have to do our inductions on our own. i don’t know if she’ll have to train at the start of september (the train up people every month), or just do her induction late, or turn down her job. i hope not. it’d be so much fun pissing around with claire in the wee small hours behind a bar. neither of us have ever pulled a pint in our lives, so the results will be very.. interesting. still, nothing can be as bad as last summer, when i was consigned to working at my father’s. ugh. no. never again.

i went home last weekend, and it got off to a bit of a bad start, i suppose. i’d been finishing this stupid research appraisal (more on that later) and was knackered by the time i got onto the train. i got a phone call from my mum saying that my brother’s wanted me to meet up with them for a drink, and she would come to the station to pick up my stuff. yay. so i said yes, as a couple of strong drinks sounded very appealing before i could go home and have a good snooze. so i met up with them in square one, with all their friends, and they’d all had a few already and were having a good time. then we went onto the tap and spile, which was rubbish as usual, then it was closing time. i’d perked up a bit by then so i said that i didn’t mind if we went to john and angie’s for ‘a couple of drinks, and then we’ll go.’ what bollocks. i’ll never believe my brothers again.

cue what could only be described as the most boring five hours of my life. everyone sat around smoking joint after joint after joint (a good fifteen must’ve been smoked throughout the night). i had a bit of one but i really wasn’t in the mood. but then nick (my eldest brother) broke of a sizeable amount of the huge chunk of pot he had (remember, i live in hebden bridge, who’s pot consumption is only second to amsterdam), so that obviously meant i had to be nice to him and couldn’t start whining ‘i want to go hooooo-ooome’.