2 months ago
Sunday, 21 March 2010
It's 9.30pm and a taxi pulls up outside my house with 1 of my favourite people in and her friend. The friend is incessantly telling me that she's on the hunt for a BLADD (businessman, lawyer, accountant, doctor or dentist) tonight. She's already getting on my nerves.
We send the taxi to call lane, it arrives, we dive into a bar and I swiftly get hold of a carona. Ellie Goulding's Starry Eyed Jakwob remix comes on and I fall in love with this place. I'm on the hunt for a J G-L lookalike exactly like the picture. It's moderately busy so we decide to stay awhile until it gets uncomfortably busy. By that time I've had 4 more drinks, but I'm not feeling the effects.
We leave and go to the bar next door, with the same prices, music and people. It's just as satisfying. The rest of my group are wasted by 11.30 but I'm only slightly tipsy. It's always a problem.
It is decided that we head to a club nearby. On the way my friend falls over nothing and cuts her knee. When we enter the club it's bleeding and a bouncer call her over and says she needs to go to the medical room. Great, I'm now stuck with her annoying friend who's gotten more annoying with alcohol. She didn't find her BLADD (i didn't find my J G-L) so she's in a mood.
'It's soooo cold' 'No it's not'
'What the hell is this music?' 'It's Elton John'
It's really quiet, this is rubbish' 'Please stop talking'
My friend comes back, they've put a plaster on her knee and given her a tetnus shot, what the fuck.
We drink and dance and find other people we know. I leave at 2.30am.
I get into work today and my manager tells me she's handed in her notice after the owner of the shop sent her some rediculous e-mails. I read them.
(these are reworded but give the general idea)
My manager had sent a very detailed plan to the owner about giving staff an allowance for uniform so that they're wearing the shop's clothes. The owner sends her back a 1-worded e-mail:
Is this guy serious? Who the fuck does he think he is speaking to people like that.
My manager also sent an e-mail about an in-store fashion show we'd organised for charity but had to cancel because we didn't get any help from the company for flyers, tickets etc.
Manager:'We have decided to cancel the fashion show because we've not received any support in terms of money for advertising.....'
Owner:'Who are 'we'? Why do you use the royale we? It is YOU........
Also can you send me a detailed report explaining your poor takings yesterday, maybe you should concentrate on picking up sales instead of sitting in your office writing e-mails that intend to offend and make me mad.'
This is the owner who was speaking to one of my supervisors about the staff and said:
'That girl with the big tits'
'She's called Laura'
'Yeah, the one with the big tits'
'No, she's called Laura'
Thank god i'm leaving this place in a month. Everyone in the actual shop is great, but the management of this company are all fucking idiots and don't deserve people like us working there.
I'm staying in Leeds for another week with 4 Girl Housemates to sort some things out, then heading back to Manchester whenever I'm not working.
Tonight consists of Ben & Jerry's frozen yoghurt and a film.
Tomorrow I need to hand a book back to the library, go into work for a staff picture, and buy a top I've seen in Zara.
I've bought Stephen Fry-Making History and Bret Easton Elis-Less Than Zero to read over Easter.