Monday 21st July 2008.
It’s a good job I’m writing this and not trying to speak it because I’m so angry that I’d just stutter over my words. Angry doesn’t even come close and it’s only that Tom has been on the phone and pacified me that’s stopped me walking out.
Today is Monday. Darren declared that he was coming back to work today. I didn’t ask him to, it was his choice. Nine o’clock I steeled myself for him walking through the door.
No Darren.
Half nine.
No Darren.
I rang him, no greeting. “So I take it you’re not coming in today after all?”
His voice was loud and obnoxious as he shouted at me. “I’m walking down the street now. I’ll be there in a bit, alright?” He hung up on me.
His tone of voice on the, ‘alright’ really irritated me.
A few minutes later he walked through the door.
“It’s nine forty five Daz, what’s going on?”
“So, I’m a bit late… alright.” There was that alright again. It’s far from all right.
I lost my temper and yelled back at him, “You have got one disgraceful attitude, boy. I’m your boss, show some respect.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’m a little bit late, you’re here so what does it matter?”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about Darren. What gives you the right to swear at me like that? I haven’t sworn at you. I don’t think I’ve ever sworn at you. If we’re going to work together, we’re going to have to clear the air between us and find some way to get on, but things are going to have to change and I won’t have you talking to me like that.” We argued for half an hour.
“I’ll tell you what eh? The stress of this is getting me down. It’s going to make me ill. Have I still got my holidays due?”
“I have no idea, why?”
“Find out will you?” no please.
I got onto Personnel and was told that he has five days left to take, which equates to two and a half weeks with him only working a day and a half.
“Right I’m taking my holidays, as of now and I’m going to use the time to look for another job.” And that was that, he was gone. No day off for me again this week ... or next week ... or maybe even the week after but hopefully I won’t have to see his smarmy face in my shop again.
The irony is that he lets me down at the last minute for my holiday but I’m expected to bloody well cover his. I’m furious. This is just the last straw and him taking the piss. Yes, as he threw at me, I did agree to cover this two weeks holiday for him and he had already mentioned it to me when we were discussing who was off when. That could rightly pass as him giving me notice, but as far as I’m concerned all bets were off the day he let me down for my holidays. He tried telling me that he didn’t let me down for my time off, that he was sick ... but he’d already let me down by then when he announced that he was going for his family barbecue. He was gloating when he told me that he’d spent the whole week there while he was ‘convalescing’ from his sore throat. He virtually admitted that he took a week on the sick to be able to go jollying for a week in Wigan.
My posters have already gone up on the windows applying for a new member of staff. I’ve applied to the licensing committee about extending my licence to open until ten every night instead of eight and on a Sunday from ten until four. If this appeal goes through then it should generate enough working hours to employ a third member of staff so that cover issues aren’t a problem.
The minute word went around town that I needed somebody I had dozens of requests. The first was from a local character. She’s a psychotic lesbian who has been in and out of homes and prisons all of her life. Poor, mixed up girl without a doubt... but er no thanks. Half an hour later her ex-girlfriend walked in to apply. This one’s a lot more clued up and seems like a decent lass, but any association with the first one is a no go area for me. The last thing my shop needs is a full on domestic from those two, or worse, them getting back together and deciding to do the place over. Julie from the Gaunt said that she’d come and work for me. I like Jules and do think she’d be great for the job … but, when I said that I’d need a C.V she told me that she doesn’t have one. I said that she could go and use the library computer but she said that she couldn’t be bothered and would give it a miss. Fair enough, if she can’t be bothered getting a C.V. then she probably wouldn’t be bothered to do much work either and she can be very moody which isn’t a good thing for the customers. Next up was a local coke-head with two year old twins. She spent an hour telling me how the men would love her and what a laugh she’d be … no thanks. A sixty-year-old artist just out of prison on drug offences wanted me to give him a break, obviously he’d never get through the police check. Jess told me about a friend of hers just moving back to Barrow from Manchester who desperately needs a job. I said she’d have to submit a C.V. like everybody else. She’s another twenty-two year old … too young. Finally I had my cousin Lisa figuring that the job was hers if she wants it just because she’s related. We had the ‘I haven’t got a C.V.’ conversation again and she sulked off. She’s completely unsuitable for the shop. I have decided that I’m not taking on friends or family or even friends of friends. As I’ve found, having to come down on staff members is difficult enough when you don’t know them, it can only be worse if you do, for my own sake, there’ll be no nepotism in my shop. It’s early days but initial signs are not good.
Russ had a fantastic time at Furness Fest. The bands were brilliant and although the weather was awful, everybody who bothered to attend seemed to have a good time and there was a happy atmosphere. The turn out was awful and I feel so sorry for Callum that he and his partner must be thousands of pounds, maybe even hundreds of thousands of pounds out of pocket. This is the biggest music event that has ever been hosted in our area but as is typical of the apathy in this place only a few hundred people could be bothered to turn up. Folk around town were moaning about the fifty-pound ticket price. For that they got: free parking, concessions, stalls and crafts, family activities camp fires and barbecue griddles, toilets that were cleaned every two hours, beer tents, dance tents, chill out tents and three stages, three days camping and seventy five bands half of which are signed to record labels. What more do people want? I think it was a fantastic first effort and I hope that Callum can afford to and has the inclination to try again next year. My prediction is that attendance will be poor for up to five years, but once everybody jumps on the bandwagon it will double yearly. That’s what happened with Solfest. To suffer losses like that again he’s going to have to have some stiffer funding for next year. I doubt there will be a ‘Furness Fest 2009’ and that’s such a shame. I have my t-shirt and will wear it with pride even though I never got to attend the event. I did have a look up there for a couple of hours on Sunday afternoon, but that doesn’t count. Russ is already nagging me about Solfest at the end of August. With things so up in the air at the shop there’s no way I can commit myself to anything. Tickets are selling out and I’m not prepared to pay out ninety pounds for my ticket and parking only to lose it when the time comes. I only get my licence back on the fifth of August and don’t know if I’ll be driving by then. The Solfest grounds are three miles from the nearest proper road and with all the camping gear to carry it wouldn’t be much fun going on public transport. We had an amazing time last year but I’m not sure if I can do it this year.
