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It’s all done. I’m trying to reground myself by staying up all night despite no sleep for a week. Because that’s always the best solution.

Fuck. That was a week. I feel emotionally stretched. A beautiful week but a hard week. I’ve been thinking about frames of reference. It takes as great deal to shake someone from privilege into a state of empathy. The final day is when the people with less money tend to come. We had lots of competition winners in the room, and generally the people were more grounded. One guy had won a trip from Australia by filling in a competition on the neck of a bottle. The crowd today were considerably more generous to my staff than the CEO’s of the major companies that were there earlier in the week. If you don’t know what it is to be a waiter, you don’t know how hard the work is for terrible money, so you are less inclined to be generous. “They’re just minions”. I was pleased to sign off tips today that meant my waiters had been paid more than I had.

Now I’m home and coming in under the word limit for the last time, now with no photo either. I’m too tired to be sad, but I’ll miss my staff. They all flourished. Tomorrow I’ll be sad. Right now, I’ll refer you to my Father’s Day blog and use the Get Out of Jail Free card I embedded there:

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Morning after. What a week. I completely failed to even manage to copy and paste the content before I passed out. Tristan, Roxana and I all stumbled back home fraught and in flux, and deconstructed all the poison we had been converting throughout the week while necking red wine. Poison can be turned into medicine. Now I’m trying to establish the best way of getting a foot massage without walking anywhere.

I had one guest take me aside to talk about one of the hosts. Their job is to greet and troubleshoot, like the managers. They are paid the same as the managers, with the advantage of not having to work so hard. Whenever anyone leaves the table, the host appears as if by magic, and makes sure if they can that the tip doesn’t go to the waiting staff. My guest was impressed with a host and pulled me aside. “You see that girl? She’s an actress. She isn’t just in hospitality. You, this is what you do and you trained for it. But she’s an actress, not a professional. And she’s brilliant at it as well. But she’s an artist too. She’s multitalented.” “Yes sir,” I responded. “I understand that professionals in the arts must learn to be adaptable in order to put food on the table.” “Well she has. It’s remarkable.” “I agree with you entirely sir. Can I send one of my staff to bring you anything for the table?”

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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