Wrap. Stack. Pack – no thanks.

Job hunting.

That’s me. I’m on the hunt.

At first I was open to pretty much anything – but now I’ve got my heart set on a big ol’ life change.

I live in a tiny village in the English countryside. Quaint, yes. Exiting, no. This week our local papers headline was ”Sheep gives birth.”

Yup. High-octane stuff.  Its amazing. No-one seems to know anything about the outside world here. Its a ”Sheep gives Birth” kinda place – subtitle ”Barrack Obama invades Russia” kinda place.

I started looking for Jobs in the employment section recently. It wasn’t long before I realised I probably wouldn’t find what I was after – who was I kidding.

I considered a warehouse job. ‘Wrap, Stack, Pack’ was the title. I could imagine myself on my first day – ”OH! I get it, sorry, its wrap, stack THEN pack..”

So I turned to the internet.

See, I want a job being creative. I want to write stuff. Vague I know. But I want to write stuff that makes people laugh – or think – or both. I’m a guy with very little. I don’t have a degree, or much experience. I’ve got £21 in my bank account and a car that doesn’t work when it rains, and that’s pretty much it.

So I sat.

I sat in front of this computer screen as I do now, and went on some kinda Job hunting rampage. I sat here for hours; applying to every humor writing job I could find –  It got to the point where I was filling in forms with ”Sam Drury.26. Hilarious” and hammering the additional notes section with ”I must re-iterate, just how funny I am, Im talking laugh out lound shit your pants funny.”

No response as yet….

Maybe I should try ”please respond to this, my eyes are starting to bleed”

In fact I might even go to these places. I wont drive if its raining, but I’ll go to these places – walk on in there and start writing.

Who knows.  Going from A to B might be harder than I thought.

I better take the bus.

Hospitality – The Rant Continues..

So. Ok. I thought I’d got it out of system with my last post. But I haven’t.

Not even a bit.

The search for a better me continues.

So this pub I work in – this..’Gastro pub’ is; and continues, to push a few buttons on the ‘dont piss me off’ control board.

Its not just the fancy drinks, the fancy food, or even the sign outside that reads ”We love dogs and Muddy boots” (I mean please. No we bloody don’t) Its the clientèle.

There’s this guy. ..

An intolerable gentlemen that visits the pub quite often, I think his names Tarquin or something like that – we call him ‘The Mussel Man’.’ Now, this isn’t because he’s blessed with an athletic physique, nor because he has impressive upper-body strength. No, no – we call him this because of his love for Mussels – Moules – seafood.

He’s obsessed.

He rang us once whilst he was on holiday in Spain

”Hello” he said ”It’s Tarquin”

”…Hello Tarquin…how are you”

”Fine. Mussels on the menu tonight?”

”Yes Tarquin” I say ”Would you like to book a table?”

”No no” he says ”Just checking”

I mean. Its- just- WEIRD. He’s got this annoying habit of turning up, literally seconds before we close. I swear he waits in the car-park, looking at his watch, timing his entrance just to maximise irritation. Its got to the point where he doesnt even say anything – just walks on in – and mouths ‘mussels’ to me from across the room, usually with with a strange, and quite obviously unauthentic smile on his face the sick bastard.

I don’t know what’s worse – serving him, or cleaning the toilets  – or in fact eating the content of the toilet. Oh no wait, Its serving him.

I love my Job.

In fact, when I do actually get asked to clean the toilets, its not that bad – I wrote myself a ‘Braveheart-like’ battle speech, just to recite to myself while I’m in there:

”I tell you what – when my head is down a loo, all I do is smile.There is no-where else I’d rather be. You see, I could have been a Lawyer – I could have been a doctor, HELL I could’ve been many things – but you know what? You know what I smell when Im down here? Its not the reminents of Chicken and beans from last night, its not faeces, oh no – its- god-dam SUCCESS – because this isn’t just a toilet, this is the toilet that I clean, and may you shit in it, and may your children shit in it and may your CHILDREN’S CHILDREN shit in it for generations to come, for I will be here, I will be here with my rubber gloves and skin-burning chemicals and I WILL BE SMILING, beacause you can crap on in this china bowl, BUT you WILL – NEVER.TAKE.MY.FREEEEEEDOM’‘

I might even get some blue paint to smear over my face.

Anything to get me through the day.