It’s Been So Long…

I’ve forgotten what to do on Saturdays.

The Black Keys: Thickfreakness is spinning.

So it ended yesterday. Three years working for what i have come to know as the shittest company i’ve ever had the displeasure of working for. A suckurity company that has lied to me since the day i first stepped into that office. But hey, it’s done, i’m free.

I had my reasons for staying with them for so long, one of which being credit card debt. But that’s over with, and i couldn’t find any another reason to stay. I decided to start looking for work, but figured i’d stick around until i found something. Nothing came up, and i was getting more and more despondent. And after a week off to recharge i found that going back to work gave me depression. For five days i didn’t talk to anyone, at work or at home. It was then that i realised that i needed to get out. That this wasn’t good for me emotionally or mental.

Just knowing that their other suckurity guards, who were being paid the same rate i was, were turning up for work late, sometimes up to three hours late, or just not turning up at all and not answering their phones. Or talking on the phone are going to the toilet ever hour, or staring out into the street instead of watching the customers inside the shop. This pissed me off. I’m here doing my job, the job i’m being paid to do, albeit not very much, but i’m fucking doing it properly, professionally.

But hey, i ain’t there anymore, and now i can’t remember what to do on Saturdays.

I worked in a shop in the posh Westend of London (Mayfair). The staff were great, and kept me entertained, but were not enough to keep me there. When i handed in my notice it took my companies HR department four working days to get in touch with me. When the staff at the shop found out, they gave me a cake and we opened a bottle of champagne, they also gave me a goodie (bye) bag, picture below. Great people that lot. There were hugs n stuff, on both Thursday and Friday as different staff were in on those days. I have more loyalty and respect to the guys in the shop then my own ex-employer.

And this might be an indiction of what the other guards were like: i would receive a phone call every morning to make sure i was on my way into work. And not just me, but all the guards. So, all i can think of as to why i wasn’t getting these calls is that other guards were either late, a lot, which i know to be true, or they just weren’t going in to work and not calling the office to inform them. Yet i’m being paid the same as these twats. No dice, kemosabe.

Yes, i worked at Christian Louboutin in Mayfair. That is a small bottle of champagne, a note book and a good bye card from the team there.

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