A Day from Hell, Though the Devil Knows How to Put a Smile on Your Face

Almost 3 consecutive postings! What's going on with me?! Anyway ...

Today (Sunday) could be classified as the day from hell, though I think the devil knows how to put a smile on your face in the end. Or maybe it was divine intervention with the "Big Man" up there looking out for me. Anyway, I'll let you be the judge of that after you read my story.

Last night was the first "proper" night out that I have had with my friends in a really long time. We're talking since November! But we deserved it & we had a great time. Chris, Lucy, Shagufta, Zoe, Zoe's Welsh friend Os (I don't know how to spell her name, but we call her Os for short), & I went out for a night on the town. I got to Zoe's at 7pm, laden with my overnight bag (I was staying at her place) in one hand & a bag of drinks in the other. We set up shop in her room & began to get ready. Eventually Lucy showed up, late as usual, followed by Chris. By then, we were ready for a toast with Fat Frogs. Now these people have NEVER had a Fat Frog before, but after last night, I believe they will have them more often! We met up with Shagufta at Revolutions by 10pm. (We were supposed to originally be there at 830 but our group likes to arrive, well, late.) We stayed in Revolutions until 1130 & then headed to Que Pasa which is a "Mexican" restaurant/bar. I had my first Welsh Margarita & I have to say it was crap! By 1230m, we were off to Walkabout where we did not stay long. By then, some of Zoe's housemates turned up. We arrived back at her house around 130am, ate our midnight snack of vege burgers (our freezer broke, so I supplied midnight snacks), & chips (which Z's housemate Gary & I found at a 24hour kebab shop). By 3am, Z, Os, & I were in bed as Z had to be at work at noon. (Lucy was in at 11am.)

So we crashed & woke up, quite cheerfully I might add, at 10am to rain (it figures, we are in Wale & we had a week of beautiful weather). Z got ready for work. Os & I dropped her off & then decided to go to lunch & a film (Spidey 3). By the time we got out of Spiderman, it was time for Z to be off work, so we went & picked her up. Michelle, my manager, also called me right as we were leaving the theatre & begged me (seriously, I have never heard that woman beg) to come in tonight as she had overbooked the restaurant & needed another hand. I informed her that I had not been home since yesterday & didn't know when I would be home to change. I finally said that I would come in though i couldn't confirm a time. By this time it was 4pm. I managed to catch 445 bus home & was back at the hotel at 6pm. Wayne, the other manager, let me eat dinner in the canteen since I hadn't a chance to cook & off to work I went.

I hadn't been in to work in about a week & some of the chefs were excited to see me as they love to give "the American" a hard time. They were also harrassing me to go out tonight with everyone, but I told them that had they informed me earlier, I could have planned accordingly as I had no clothes to change in to (one of the chefs said I could go naked, which got him a very dirty look).

The restaurant itself was absolutely maniac. At one time, we can seat 105 people. Tonight, the restaurant was filled to the max at least twice, maybe 3 times. You do the math & figure out how many people we served. We have NEVER done that many covers, especially on a Sunday night! The frustrating part was that I was the only one running food & doing the room service. The other servers were too busy taking orders to help me & the bar was busy as well. So when the chefs started yelling at me, I started yelling back. I don't think they ever expected they could get a rise out of me like they did. Finally, Laurent, the younger French chef, came up to me & said "It's not you. Don't worry. Just take the food out. I realize you're only one person." If it wasn't for him, I probably would have walked out since the guys were being so dense about it all. We also had food issues as well which is always frustrating, but it's a given in the restaurant business. By 10pm, Louise, another manager, asked what time I was to go home. Michelle had told me 10, so that was what I told her as I would need to get a taxi to the bus quadrant before the bus left 1045. By 1015, I was walking out the door to wait for my taxi. Now comes the fun part...

As I am waiting for my taxi, an older gentleman who has obviously had his fair share of beer came up to me. I don't know what he said to me at first because he had the drunken slur. But then he came up to me & started talking, asking if he would be thrown out of the bar. I told him that as long as he was pleasant, he could stay where he was. Then he asked if I was Irish. (This is the 5th time I've been asked that!) Now, I love the fact that people think I'm Irish because, well, I love Ireland & I consider it a compliment. When I informed him I wasn't, he told me to talk to him more so he could figure out my accent. His next guess: Canadian. I laughed. Then he said American. When I confirmed his 3rd answer, he then asked what I was doing in Swansea. I told him I was studying for my MA in English Lit which he informed he would be more than happy to help me with if I would let him go home wiht me.

Now, my expression was quite steady as he said this & thankfully I kept my composure & simply said "I don't take guys home with me."
His reply was classic: "Well, you can go home with me!"
"Um, no thank you. I'm waiting for my taxi."
"Well, where do you live?"
"Far, far away."
"Like how far away."
"The Gower" (The Gower is about an hour's bus ride from my house)
"Oh, Gowerton! Well, I live just over the hill. You can go home with me!"
"No, thank you."
"So how long are you working at the restaurant?"
"I'm moving home soon."
"Ah! How about I move to America with you? I hate this bloody country!"
"Well, I'm not really moving home. I'm moving to Germany actually."
As he reaches for my arm & gets so close that I can smell the alcohol: "I lived 5 months in Germany."
"Oh, that's nice. I don't speak German. But my German boyfriend does."
"Oh." It was classic.

By this time I'm trying to figure out how to move into the lobby of the hotel so the general manager can make sure I get into the taxi alone. However, luck smiled upon me & here came my taxi. Of course, as soon as I pointed out that my taxi was here, my more than friendly friend offered to go home wiht me again. I hurriedly made my way into the front seat of the taxi & said to the driver: "You are an absolute life saver. Get me outta here now, please!" My driver, poor guy, gave me this funny look & off we went. And then I explained what he saved me from. We had a good laugh over it.

So the taxi takes me to the bus station & as I am walking to the waiting area, the taxi driver gets out & calls after me. He knew I lived in the Student Village & had just gotten a call to pick up some students there. So he asked if I wanted a lift home. When I asked how much, he said it would be free as he "wanted to make sure (I) got home alone & in one piece." So I took him up on the offer & I got a taxi ride home for free! Which was quite nice & quicker! I was home by the time the bus from the quadrant would have left the station!

Though the latter part of my day was not at all pleasant, especially the almost groping/molesting drunk guy, I think that someone up above had to smile down on me. After all, I had an interesting conversation with a drunk guy who thought I was Irish, was saved by a taxi driver (I should have found out his name!), & received a free ride home. Regardless, days from hell aren't fun & I'm glad I'm not working again until Friday. There's one thing I have certainly learned while being here. Beware of drunk Welshmen! They can be too friendly sometimes!