I have finally left the hideous engineering company I was working for and told Dragon Lady to kiss my oversized ass. I have got myself a new job which I actually LOVE. Who would have thought I would enjoy serving others?! That's right I am officially Leicester's clumsiest waitress and shittest pint pourer - you either get all froth or none at all, take your pick.
Initially I was concerned - was I not walking straight into the devil's lair by choosing to work at Leicester's finest restaurant (and this isn't just opinion this is actual fact). With homemade loaves being thrown out of the kitchen every few minutes on dinner service and twice cooked chips filling the kitchen with sweet chip aroma. Working for Entropy was going to be tough - not because I knock over most drinks and drop most food down myself but because temptation is quite literally coming at be from all directions. So I came up with a genius plan that I was to have a serious chat with our kitchen and give then strict instruction that they are to only serve me either salad or soup...this serious chat is yet to take place. But having worked there for two weeks now I have yet to spill food down a customer or steal one of their fresh loaves for myself. I have completely jinxed myself now, I'm bound to drop a latte on someone this week.
In fact work has been so good that I have actually forgotten to eat. I know it baffles me too. But when you are the only person on and you there are 20 cappuccinos to make you are focussing more on not setting off the fire alarm steaming the milk than thinking 'ohhhh I need to eat'. And considering it takes me about 5 minutes to make a cappuccino because I like to make nice patterns with the cocoa powder by the time I have finished the hunger has quite miraculously disappeared. But I have to confess there have been a couple of slip ups in the kitchen - but when you are offered next to Michelin starred food who is going to say no?! But these occasions are rare and I promise I do not encourage them, my aim is for people to think I'm basically wonder woman. Like 'omg Billie doesn't ever eat - she must just wear really unflattering clothes that make her look like she's being eating for a lifetime...' (pfftt never going to happen - if I know anything it's how to dress for the fat). However there is another flaw to my 'work so much you forget to eat' strategy my manager's best friend was the runner up in the Great British Bake Off and constantly comes in with baked treats. Life is just so unfair.
So loving life at the restaurant, the people are fab - so much better than Dragon Lady and Bible Boy and I have only managed to make a tit out of myself once so far. When the hot photographer came in to hang his pictures up I was told to take him upstairs to get him some screws to obviously hang the photos. Trying to act all sexy and clearly failing I blurt out, 'Do you want to follow me upstairs for a screw?' Well done Billie. Well done. I didn't take him upstairs, I couldn't even look him in the eye. And if we become Facebook friends I am deleting this post - because he is a babe. Restaurant work is going well for the naturally clumsy: humiliation has only occurred a handful of times, I have eaten shit a smaller handful of times, and I have had pervy middle aged men ask for my number by an even smaller handful of times - once you have been called 'beautiful' by 3 or 4 slurring, balding men the novelty soon wears off.
The gym is nearly done, the job is sweet. Project Rihanna has entered the Winter phase. Please don't let the carby winter warmers find me. Please.
Fatty BB xxx