Memories of Failure

It is amazing how many things in [tag]London[/tag] remind me of how much I failed to get a job when I was around here.
The sounds, the smells and even my old ringtone bring to my mind all those times I was desperately trying to find a job before I was kicked out of my appartment.

I also remember all the days I was working in those crappy Pubs and Restaurants and how miserable I felt at that. Just mindless serving of drinks and complaints about being too friendly. I will attempt to visit the pub I was banned from this Sunday, if only to see if the same people are working there. Maybe some schadenfreude when I see the person that got me fired, still working there and earning 1/3 of what I do, will make my day.

Then I will continue to the Souk Medina and see if the “YesBoss Man” is still working there or if he got finally kicked out as I was told he would. I’d really love to laugh at that prick’s face when I see him back to selling trinkets on the street.
Thinking back, those 5 months almost ruined the London experience for me. Good thing it was easy to make some friends to alleviate all the bad shit that was happening. I hope I get to see the company of Greeks back at the Crobar and maybe have some board gaming with Alex on Sunday.

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