All done

Well that's done and dusted and I can breath a sigh of relief, 'til the next event of note arrives in the calendar.

Some of my colleagues have landed themselves in shit deep enough to need waders after screwing up at work. Thankfully I was off working for another club that night and have as a result kept myself unblemished. There's quite a few handbags being swung and it's not a pretty sight.

The mental image of the folk I work with in floral dresses swinging their handbags at each other is one I must cherish for the more stressful bits of my life.

All of the shennanigans, including my shuffling off to cover some shifts at another club on the door-companies books, are to do with the serious lack of doorfolk in this city. The training costs £400 and very few folk are willing to spend that on a career they don't know if they'll like doing.
Few employers will lay out that in one lump for the possibility that the one lump they've spent it training remains exactly that and not a useful member of a door team somewhere. This leaves it to wannabes and those with friends in the game. Not enough new folk coming in and always a few folk leaving, it's getting daft.

Oh well, time to ask for a payrise.