All quiet

on the western front. I’m not sure whether the doors I work on face west or not but perhaps on the western front there were stretches that faced in every ordinal direction.

All of the fun it seems has been going off elsewhere. The change of company has brought with it a change of staff at certain venues and whilst these have been bedding in the punters of a certain ilk have been wreaking havoc. Unfortunately I’ve had a very dull weekend of it.

Normally a good shout with some adrenalin lifting experience at the end can lift the anti-social work slump that hits the smaller hours of the weekend when seen sober. The gossip that follows and there is always some morbid entertaining to be had from discussion of the bruising and other less visible ailments accrued in the line of duty.

Alas, I spent the time checking twenty year olds IDs. They all had them and the photo’s weren’t even that entertaining. Limited to no flirting opportunities were only recovered from by the decent conversation from my co-worker.

Oh well, I’ll have to wait ‘til next weekend to see whether I’ll be dancing my size 12s around swinging punters or whether I’ll be slowly wearing a rut into the doorstep with them as I stand around and do nothing. Oh well, at least I’m getting paid to do nothing. All the while I’m hoping to get the punters in to make me earn my wage. Bizarre but what constitutes a good night at work.