My point is, sometimes an outsider can see all too clearly what is going to happen, as if they are reading a book and they can guess the ending. I wonder, did any of you readers guess what was going to happen with the Halloween costume?
'Everyone is really going to go for it.'
'I'll be more miserable if I'm the only one who isn't properly dressed up.'
Because I sure as fuck didn't see that one coming.
"Is everyone wearing their costumes all day today?" I asked casually.
"Oh shit! I've forgotten my costume!" she said.
I asked her if I should put my costume or not and I showed her what I'd brought. She said that maybe I should just put the veil on and do my make-up, so off I popped into the toilets.
I couldn't get the veil to look like it had done the night before, when I'd been messing about with it in my room and managed to make it look half-decent. The shift manager told me it was time for the Briefing and to eat our lunch.
"It looks cute, but you can't have your hair like that, it must be up." she told me.
I thought they might say something like that, but I was hoping because I'd pinned some of it back they'd let it slide as it was 'part of a costume'. No such luck, but as I walked off the manager said to the other English girl: "She has gorgeous hair." If someone who hates me so much can say that about my hair, when she thinks I'm not listening, then I'm not being a Big Headed Twat but it must have looked nice. I'm going to start curling my hair more often because when my hair is straight I look like a raggedy pagan, or like I belong to an obscure sect of Christianity (you know, the ones that don't believe in taking antibiotics, or the ones who will only live on corners*).
Anyway, I bounced off to pin up my 'gorgeous hair' (I'm not letting go of that compliment, am I?) and to do my make-up. The make-up looked kind of shit, because I was in a rush and the lighting was weird, plus I felt a bit self-concious because nobody else was dressed up, so I didn't put as much on as I should have done...
The prediction I made in my last post was an accurate one- I ended up walking around the restaurant with a lacy vest top hanging off the back of my head, with 'scary make-up on', only my make-up wasn't even that scary.
When the chefs changed over after lunch, one of them asked me why I had 'dark stuff' on my face and then he translated it for the other one, so they had clearly been discussing why I had weird make-up on.
"C'est 'alloween!" I said, "It is not my normal make-up, it's for my costume."
But by that point, my veil was an absolute mess and my make-up had rubbed off a bit, so I just looked like a strange, strange idiot.
Some of the chefs in the kitchen really don't like me, because I don't speak French and because I always look miserable when I go in to get plates. Two of them are my mates now because they asked me why I was so rude and I said I wasn't, I was just nervous and worried and I hate my job and I started smiling at them more and now they love me. One of them is an little old man from India and whenever I go into the kitchen he goes "Hello darrrrlink! I am very happy to see you! Let me see your smile, darrrlink it is very very beautiful!' so then I always smile, and I go out of the kitchen feeling all nice and happy.
See! I can be a happy waitress, that is where the other staff are going wrong. Instead of swearing at me all day and tutting at me, they should be showering me with compliments. I might bring this up with the manager...
"So why are you such a shit waitress?"
"It's not me you see, I need to bathe in the golden glow of compliments. If you could let the other staff know, that would be great. Nothing too indulgent, you know, just simple things like 'Nice smile' 'Great legs' 'What pretty eyes you have'... That sort of thing will be fine."
Anyway, when the Indian man is working it really makes a difference, because I love going down to the kitchen and saying hello to him, but on Saturday it was this new guy from Australia who is really aggressive and rude. In a way it was quite good because I was able to snap back at him without feeling unjustified and it relieved some of my tension. He said things like "Oi! I just caught you putting a dirty plate there and not scraping it into the bin!" and I marched up to him and said "Look! There's no bin bag!" (Not the most inspiring or rebellious revolt in the history of the world, but it made me feel a little bit better.)
So, Aggressive Australian Chef went home at lunchtime and was replaced by a French guy who can't speak English and gets annoyed when I try and explain things to him in shitty French, and a chef who I think is Bangladeshi. They were both being a bit rude to me, but I wasn't really arsed, until I went downstairs and he started singing a song a song at me in Bangladeshi, singing my name as well so I knew he was singing about me. I wasn't sure why, but I had a feeling he was singing something a bit rude or insulting.
"What language is that?" I asked him.
"Do you know any songs in Hindi?"
He looked confused. Ha... When I was a teenager I was obsessed with Bollywood films and I used to listen to the songs on my Ipod. I always knew it would come in handy... I sang to him:
"Khabi khushi, khabi gham, khabi khushi, khabi gham..."
(Tears of sadness, tears of joy, tears of sadness, tears of joy.)
When I finished work at 6.30pm, the girls who came in to cover my shift were dressed up in really good costumes, with fake blood and everything. I told them their costumes were good and then I left them to their little 'Halloween Party'. I had a party of my own to go to, but I will talk about that later because right now I am going to Georgie's and we're going to cook some pork.
*Seriously, this is a Real Thing, something to do with the direction the sewage runs in, I think. I can't remember the name of the religion but there are a few of them living in Stockport- they all live on corners and love God.