"What's this?" I hear you gasp. "Work? Aren't you unemployed?" Well, technically, yes - I'm still unemployed. Then again, I had my interview yesterday with a cute middle-aged Japanese woman who was extremely kind when I was extremely nervous. I got lost on the way there, mainly because she'd just described where the place was in terms of what was around it, while not giving the actual address, and also because she hadn't mentioned what kind of place it was so I didn't know what to look for. It ended up being a bar/café/restaurant that served Swedish food. Who would've guessed?
Anywho, she conducted the interview in Swedish, and I had to remember to speak up, not mumble and sit up straight like a good girl. She called her karate master husband (for real, no joke) in rapid Japanese and made plans for me to come work there tomorrow (read, today). Then she turned back to me and continued speaking Japanese in just as rapid a pace about work. Luckily, I could understand it all and make the appropriate comments, and I think I made a good impression on her as she offered me first tea, then a bun, and then food. Either that or she thought I looked skinny too.
About an hour or so later she called me (once again in Japanese), asking me to work the evening at the bar instead. I've never done bar work but I didn't feel like I was in any situation to say no, so I agreed and spent all night running like a crazy person. I broke a glass within the first half-hour by putting it in front of the register so that when the cash tray came out, the glass was pushed onto the floor. Yay me. Then I realized that I'm shit at pouring ale. Really shit at it. Lager worked alright, but getting the right amount of foam feels neigh-on impossible. The girl in charge of the bar was really nice about it, but eventually argued that she'd work much more effectively serving in the bar without me, so I was on the floor taking care of dishes, serving and getting rid of bottles. I like to think I did OK, the Japanese owners came by and had a look and didn't look unhappy or anything. I was on my feet until 10 pm, wishing I'd had more than a packet of noodles before I left for work, when the bar girl sent me home with a 'good job'. The Stockholm subway has never been as comfortable as when I sat down to wait for my train. I almost missed my stop!
How is a bar open and busy until 1 am on a friggin' Tuesday anyways? Who has the time to go drink on a Tuesday? Don't these people have jobs in the morning? And just watching people rack up bills in one evening for more money than I spend on a food a month, it's just disheartening. Old drunk people are also terribly fucking rude when they're drunk. Luckily, I'm the master of smiles and I can happily ignore the crap out of anyone's shitty attitude. I think that'll help me in this business in the long run.
Then, around 11 am, my phone rang again and they wanted me to come work at their calmer sushi restaurant with the karate master man at 4 pm today. I'm nervous again, but I think that if they thought I fucked up terribly, they wouldn't want me to come back, so I'll just have to keep trying. The Japanese woman described her husband as "well, he's been a karate trainer for a really long time, so he's... kinda special. Don't take it personally if he calls you an idiot". ...Right. So that's absolutely terrifying.
I'm a little freaked they'll want me to work tomorrow evening too, since Sand's leaving for Porto long-term on Sunday and we were having a video game get-together in the evening. I don't know, can you say that you can't work an evening when you're new on a job? I mean, I'd like to take every shift they throw at me to show what a dedicated employee I am, but that's not always how it's going to work out. I don't know. All I know is that if I get the job, I'll probably be known as the new Karate Kid, getting questions if serving sushi involves any 'wax on, wax off'.
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