Desperate times call for desperate measures

Having recently returned, not long ago from my Asian Adventure, money was quite obviously tight. Thank goodness for my lovely parents allowing me to live rent-free until a managed to get myself a full time job.

I’d count myself as a lucky graduate, as within a week of returning to glorious England, I managed to bag myself a pub job a short 5 minute walk away from my house. Obviously this wasn’t an ideal situation, as I wanted to use my ‘year out’ as a chance to travel the world but first and foremost, gather up as much experience as possible in my degree sector in order to get myself the best graduate scheme. However, being picky meant I had to also be patient, so my pub job helped to give me a little pocket money whilst applying for over many jobs.

My pub job is great in terms of tips, if you’re a waitress like myself, you keep all your own tips. Others may complain about this like the bar people or the kitchen staff, but at the end of the day, the waitresses are dealing with angry and impatient customers when the chefs don’t deliver the food in good time and the waitresses get the blame. Plus, I work hard at providing a good customer service, so I think it’s only fair, but then again everyone is entitled to their own opinion.

So on this one particular evening, I did rather well in tips and managed to bag a couple of notes, meaning that for once I left the pub on a high. Anyway so, the journey between the pub and my house is down a unlit, dark road, with fields either side, so being a young women like myself, I’m hardly likely to walk alone, so this is where my lovely parents come in again. They are ever-so-kind as to meet me and it’s not always that late. So as we walked home and I explained with glee my high earnings of tips that evening and as we got home and emptied my pockets to work out how much I had made. And one of my £5 notes had disappeared and as I was convinced that I definitely had been tipped that, my parents suggested we get out a couple of torches and head back towards the pub. Again thank you to my amazing parents. So we popped our shoes and coats back on and headed out, and low and behold, half way towards the pub we hit a jackpot and there was my soggy £5 note. I’m not sure this post describes how happy I was, but it sure does describe my desperateness. I mean, come on a ‘fiver’, in reality what sort of things will this buy you these days, you can’t even get a large glass of wine, so was it really worth it?