![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Jul. 4th, 2004 05:03 am
(no subject)
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother going into work.
It's like watching a loved one die slowly of inoperable cancer. Your time is spent flip-flopping between wishing the end would come so (s)he'll no longer be in pain AND praying for a remission or cure to come about.
I don't think there is a cure for the cancer that has afflicted the Cont for the last few years. We can't survive long with consecutive weeks of piss poor turnouts like the last two weeks. Sixty people came through the doors from 9pm till we stopped charging cover at 3am. That's an average of ten an hour for you lot who are bad at math. Half of that number were people who come and nurse a single drink all night.
We can't fucking survive on 30 drinkers a night!
What with Dave(*) repeatedly not booking bands and Frank refusing to fix small things that need fixing because he "doesn't want to throw money away on small touch-ups before spending mad cash on total renovations"(**) the place is like a friggin ghost town saloon!
( *) blonde yuppy faggot still insists that when we caught him getting blown in the parking lot he was simply "pushing the girl away from him". Even though the jackass got his pathetically small knob slobbered on in view of over six witnesses.
(**) He's been planning renovations since 2001.
It's like watching a loved one die slowly of inoperable cancer. Your time is spent flip-flopping between wishing the end would come so (s)he'll no longer be in pain AND praying for a remission or cure to come about.
I don't think there is a cure for the cancer that has afflicted the Cont for the last few years. We can't survive long with consecutive weeks of piss poor turnouts like the last two weeks. Sixty people came through the doors from 9pm till we stopped charging cover at 3am. That's an average of ten an hour for you lot who are bad at math. Half of that number were people who come and nurse a single drink all night.
We can't fucking survive on 30 drinkers a night!
What with Dave(*) repeatedly not booking bands and Frank refusing to fix small things that need fixing because he "doesn't want to throw money away on small touch-ups before spending mad cash on total renovations"(**) the place is like a friggin ghost town saloon!
( *) blonde yuppy faggot still insists that when we caught him getting blown in the parking lot he was simply "pushing the girl away from him". Even though the jackass got his pathetically small knob slobbered on in view of over six witnesses.
(**) He's been planning renovations since 2001.
