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Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Slow chaos

I thought sitting out of harms way, letting the egos battle and chips fall off oversized shoulders would be my best plan of action. It still may be so, but the down side is no-one knows what's going on with the rota. I usually pick up certain weekend nights with late starts at a certain venue. Now occasionally I'll be off to this door or that club to cover gaps but generally I know where I'll be for my weekend.

All that's gone tits up now. The rota monkey is one of those clashing heads and has taken to sorting the rotas to suit him. Fine, thats about the only perk of trying to sort out the bloody things. I've done it for a team of 25ish in 6 venues and am more than happy not to have to do it again. The thing is, he's splitting established teams up, deliberately putting friction into nights where he's not working and making sure all the inherently unrealiable folk land on shifts he's not. As a random bystander I'll just catch whichever shift is sent my way but inevitably I'll catch one of the disturbed and disfunctional teams. Time to consider moving companies methinks.

Oh well, it'll make for some fun in the mean time. There is a certain satisfaction to be had in knowing that a certain antisocial chav punter will queue for half an hour, get admitted to the venue by a new front door man and, after paying their entry and first drink, gets spotted by managment. Yours truly gets to escort the whiny sod off the premises without alcohol, refund or luck. If you're barred don't try it, you'll only get upset. A new face on the front door may not recognise you, that doesn't mean none of the staff/doorstaff/management/doorstaff on their night off will not and your speedy expulsion will follow.

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