Tag Archives: rants

So our new semi friend Leonardo was about to leave when he realised that he had lost his friends. We looked on the table but it wasn’t there. I suggested that he asked the tequila soliciting chick he had been chatting to for ages. She looked like she might have taken it just to get him to leave her alone. But no, Leonard decided that we had it. And not just us but the 6.1 hulky Nigerian who was part of our motley crew. We were 8 strong by now 5 women and 3 men and yet….he went for the biggest guy there? And him so short? I’m guessing alcohol makes even the stupidest man brave. So he accused Alfie of taking his phone, words were exchanged which I couldn’t hear over the awful music and then before I knew it they were dancing. You know the ‘Hold me back’ dance that guys do? So I help back Alfie, almost breaking a nail and eventual it calmed down. But then one of the Kent boys comes over and asks to talk about it calmly with Alfie. Alfie eager to clear his slandered name goes into the corridor leading to the toilets…not more than a minute later fists are flying the manager and bouncer are up there splitting it out and I’m really worried about losing a hair extension in the affray so I’m holding Alfie back but I’m also trying to keep a distance. I don’t think Kent boy can be trusted with braids near him.

Jewel Bar chuck the Kent boys out and we go back to our night out. Then Madame Attitude spills a drink on me and gives a sharp sorry when I point it out. Drunk on lust or just being a bitch? I decide it’s time we all head out because this night is not worthy of a black cab. I’m also starting to have my concerns about Alfie who seems to like a fight a tad too much for my nerves to deal with.

As we leave the waitress comes over and says I haven’t paid the bill. I point out to her that I paid in advance and I didn’t even use it. She insists I come back and asks another member of staff to check. Isn’t it there on her clip board? Apparently it is but she needs someone to check as she is clearly quite stupid. The other waitress is equally as clueless and they call the manager as I stand there seething in my coat. What is wrong with businesses these days. No decent customer service. When you book a table you take card details and a deposit. You aren’t without recourse. So the manager comes and explains that I didn’t even spend all of the deposit and that I’m free to go. Yes I too was starting to feel like this was prison. The waitress tried to apologise for her high handed approach but I walked off. I didn’t want to be in potentially the 3^rd fight that night.

So sadly for me that’s another place in the west end I won’t be frequenting again. But worse than that the next time a drunken person tries to sit on a table I reserve I’m going to tell them to sling their hook.

Have a lovely day all!

© Chelsea Black

So last night I organised an event at Jewel Bar Covent Garden. I really should have known that it was going to be fraught with issues because

a)      It’s in the West End on a Friday

b)      The woman was uber excited about Charlie from Kiss FM playing there. Who? The breakfast show she explained with a squeal. Who is he? A friend kindly explained to me that Charlie wasn’t the pop dj I thought it was but a woman from Essex who played more RnB

But anyway I’m nothing if not a trier and the deposit for an area wasn’t ridiculous.

I get there early and a couple get there earlier. At least it’s clear from their body language that they want to be a couple but for now they’re playing the work colleagues role. I’ve met him before but never her and immediately I’m getting some negativity from her. Why chica, you have the man and yes he’s hotter than Morris Chestnut but he’s smitten. At this point I want to lecture her on chilling the F out but others arrive and I forget about Madam Attitude.

Others arrive and it’s all going well. The couple keep disappearing for hours on end and I’m just tired of being their bag watchers as they snog off in corners. At least I hope this is what they’re doing. I’m semi enjoying myself although the music Charlie the girl is playing is definitely not RnB.

I interrupt this to see that some Dance music is the cruellest thing ever. You start off with an RnB or pop song that is well loved by all such as Beyonce then you murder it with some dance track remix crap that no one but uncoordinated men like. You all know who I mean. The out of towners. Not the straight from workers who understand the subtle nuances of socialising in London but those that tend to go out to the same one club every week because it’s the club they’re known at. Like Oceana.

This night we were entertained by a crew of guys who must be from Kent (I say Kent as Essex guys have a twee bit more hair products added to their ensemble) who were dressed in white trainers, jeans and a colour board of blue polo shirts from Le costa, Ralph Lauren or maybe even Polo. I can’t really tell the difference. The cool drunken small one who I immediately knew was the female puller we called Leonard di Caprio. Women were happy to speak to him but less so his friends. Maybe because his polo shirt was black?

Leonardo kept resting at our table. This didn’t bother anyone as it was clear that he had drank more alcohol than his vertically challenged frame could handle.  But this was a decision I was to come to regret.

© Chelsea Black

The recruitment consultant

So I know I fucked up. I just didn’t think a decision I made over 4 years ago would have such far reaching repercussions. I better start at the beginning.

There’s this recruitment consultant who I’ve never met and who sends me the odd job specification to look over before disappearing for months. It’s the nature of our relationship and both of us are comfortable with it. He needs a few decent CVs to flash in front of his clients and I need work.

My major problem with recruitment agents is that most don’t know the industries well enough to be able to pick apart transferrable skills on a CV. The other thing is their commission. Some have taken as much as £200 a day for doing sweet FA.  Certain organisations insist you go through them though so what choice do you have. They also don’t declare their commission up front. Instead they tell you about this being the quiet months and sucking his breath the market and recession and blah blah blah. Yes we get it. You don’t want to screw the client so you’ll screw me instead and not in the good way.

Any way today I saw a job with the same agency but not from the same guy. Had he left? No thankfully he’s still around but his client was dealing with one area specifically now. OK, I was willing to show how  ‘can-do approach and ‘one of the team’ I was and go with  it. And so I began the banter with newbie.

All was going well until he made a television reference. Now as you all know I don’t own a TV and worse I’ve not seen a soap in over 10 years. To add insult to injury it was Coronation Street which I’ve never ever watched so I was really stuck. I told him that I didn’t have a television and he gasped! Then he said seriously. “I suggest you get one”

Seriously? Was this guy suggesting that my lack of a license and TV were tantamount to making me unemployable? Did this mean that I didn’t have enough water cooler knowledge to fit into the organisational culture? WTF!

Begrudgingly he said he would try to set up an interview for me but something tells me that he’s not going to push too hard. Did I mention he was Northern? Maybe as a Northerner living in London he holds onto Coronation Street as a taste of home? Who knows? All I know is that I’m going to blonde up this recruitment lark and just laugh when they put on that ‘I’ve just told a joke’ voice that men do. It’s the only way my precious.

That’s it, I’m adding Twitter enthusiast and Facebook aficionado to my CV. But wait, that’s just going to sound like I will waste the company’s time being online? May as well start off being honest, right?

© Chelsea Black