Oh what a night!

Ya gotta love being a 28 year old running a pub. Sounds so bloody cool, I must hang out at the end of the bar of a night, drinking a few beers and flirting with the eligible young bachelors who fight for my attention... Yeah, right!

The realities of this job no-one would really believe unless they've done it themselves, or has a close friend/partner etc. who does. My itinerary for today - got up (late again, not sleeping at present), ran to the office to start the system, put the tills out, found clean chef whites, then duh duh dunnn..... Went to the kitchen. Discovered my beloved KP had left it in a shit hole last night (thanks!) so before I could set up for the atypical busy Saturday I had to clean the bloody place first. Then, inevitably people ordered food. Those selfish bastards, they couldn't wait til I was ready?! You'd think I was here to serve them or something! Getting more and more grouchy (oscar's got nothing on me sometimes), I sent out lots of food. No complaints, I'm actually quite good. So far, so not so bad you may say. The thing to remember is, I ain't a cook, I'm a (normally!) sunny natured person, who got into this trade, and loves it when I get to serve at the bar and chat chat chat. A small, sweaty kitchen a floor above the bar area not quite the perfect place to do that! But, the joys of being short staffed mean that it's my pleasure to be lumbered there. Hopefully gonna have a kitchen worker soon....... Anyway, was up there all day, luckily my lovely and entertaining assistant and supervisor soon started work so I had help and people to make me laugh, so things got better. But, I would not recommend working over 12 hours in the heat and humidity of London, in a kitchen, on a Saturday when you suddenly realise the vast majority of 20-somethings are sunning themselves, then getting you to make their food!

I have to say though, i am by nature a cheerful person, up for a giggle, and to me one of the funniest things happened tonight...

So, anyone who works in a kitchen will tell you that normally the one saving grace you have (other than cigarette breaks if you're a dirty smoker like me) is music. No-one can work in a kitchen on their own without having something to sing along to. I listen to the radio, as I find I can sing/dance along, yell at the adverts and reply to the presenters chat. No wonder my bar staff think I'm nuts! Anyhoo, I listen to XFM, the quite mainstream indie/rock station, which I love. It's introduced me to some fab new songs of late (I like you so much better when you're naked, Ida Maria; Never Forget You, The Noisettes, and a million more I can't remember!), as well as playing classic tracks from Bowie, The Beatles, The Stones, the Kinks etc, etc., and the stuff of my youth (well, younger youth, I refuse to admit I'm anything other that a chubby teenager with a mature face!) such as the foos, chilis, nirvana, green day etc., most of whom are still releasing music, albeit it marginally more excepted within the mainstream now. So, been stuck in the kitchen for a wee while, and XFM has been my companion every day.They also seem to know when I need a favourite song played. Just had a complaint, here listen to Blood Sugar Sex Magic. Bar staff pissing you off? Have some Basketcase do dance along to. Anyway, every day at some point on XFM there's an opportunity to get a favourite 'classic' song of your choice played. Classic being anything recorded pre-2005 as far as I can tell. I've been texting (is that a word?) in quite frequently to have Nancy Boy by Placebo played. They're currently releasing a new album, so my favourite 'classic' track of theirs has been sticking in my mind a bit. So I sent a text in again today, and when my star supervisor was helping me do dishes, I was bemoaning the fact they always seemed to ignore my request, so she also sent in the request, the song being a favourite of hers also. After this, we got distracted. By the rain.

It rained, that classic, summer, so fragrant rain that not just plants need it to survive, that rain that when it comes and it's so hot, you know it's a pre-cursor to a fabulous summer storm. That rain where the drops are so big, you almost feel like you can walk between them, that when they hit your skin it almost feels cleansing, physically and mentally. That rain (if you're me) reminds you of a hot summer night in a pub with a beer garden, having beers with your 19 year old bartender and it starts to rain, and you are so grateful for it that you dance around barefoot in the puddles, him doing cartwheels, you splashing like a child in the puddles, rejoicing that you are awake and alive to embrace it. That rain.

We went and stood in it, happy it was back, enjoying the release from the heat, overjoyed that Andy Murray could still play Wimbledon cos centre court is covered now! He won 3-0. C'mon the final, hopefully. Justin Timberlake was watching him today ya know. Anyway, I digress. So, we all went on about our business, and my superstar supervisor went and worked on the bar, and my amazing assistant came to help me in the kitchen. I was cooking away, kinda busy when my phone rang with a random London number. As I've been desperately looking for a cook of late, I often get random calls on me mobiley from people who know people looking for work, or people from other pubs trying to give me help. So, the phone rings, and as usual I pass my mobile onto my amazing assistant/now personal secretary to answer. she explains I'm unavailable, and some woman on the phone asks if I'm still stuck in the kitchen to which my aa replies yeah..., and the woman asks a couple more questions to which the reply is yeah... Then my aa finally realises she is on the phone with the lovely Marsha from XFM, wanting some chat to air before playing my song. My lovely aa is not an indie/rock fan in the slightest, and hesitates to get the song and band name correct, but gets there in the end, giggling all the way now she knows what's going on. I pump up the volume (great movie) on the radio, and we instantly call my star super up to the kitchen, who arrives in time to hear broadcast on national radio the remarkably stilted then giggly conversation my aa had with the lovely Marsha, followed by the song I've been bugging the hell out of them for all week, Nancy Boy. All 3 are in hysterics, my star super and I then proceed to sing along at top volume, all 3 of us dancing around the kitchen and so so happy that something fun/nice /different happened to us, that typical Saturday night.

Just realised, that was a hell of a build up to something that probably wasn't funny to someone that wasn't there, and doesn't know us. If you take nothing else from this little rant of mine, take this - the rain doesn't always ruin the day, radio can cheer up a day just by playing the right song at the right time, and lastly, if you're gonna screen your calls, make sure you can hear the person on the other end of the phone properly, as you never know when it's a call that's gonna get your mono tonal then giggly voice broadcast to the entire country!

And on that note, good night x