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.

One thought on “Memories of Failure”

  1. Ah, Konstantine, it was really great having you here this weekend, even after your verbal abuse in the topic before.
    You know you want to come back anyway.

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