Royal Flush

Well I finely got a job. Despite my lack of phone number typing skills, I am now working in an Internet Cafe in the center of downtown Edinburgh. I'm going to keep the exact name and location a little vague, just so I can write about work with a little plausible deniability, to take a page from the US Government.

What I can reveal is that it's run by a guy who is, drum roll please, from Quebec and an insanely good businessmen. The shop is a little "different" from other 'net cafes, as in high class. I'm still getting to grips with a till that everyone claims is "normal", but since I've only used strange custom bar tills before, it's taking some getting used to. At least all my previous cash handling experience is with British money, so making change ect. is the easy part.

In my so far brief time with the company, I've already had an "incident" or two. On my first full day, I received a frantic phone call from Michele, a friend from the hostel. Michele, who had dropped her mobile phone in the toilet the night before, had tracked me down at work because she had lost all her phone numbers in her phones aquatic adventure, and was begging me to pick up a replacement phone from the store across the street from my work. My boss (who during my first training shift nipped out to fix a fellow entrepreneurs plumbing, and who would be the sort of guy to take charge during a disaster or a reality TV show) was momentarily confused when the phone was for me. "Rory...Rory who?...Oh the guy I just hired?!"

It has been a busy few days: Saturday was my first training/test shift and my ex-flatmate (as in apartment, not vertically challenged) from London came up to Edinburgh for the weekend with two friends from Oz. Shan and I showed them what we knew of the town, before we left them to dance it up at "The World Famous Frankinstines", as we had been out the night before with the Hostel's new group pub crawl. Sunday was training shift two. Monday was my first normal shift plus Open Mic night at Whistle Binkies! Spanish Mark, the guy who runs both the free tours and the free pub crawl for the hostel, went up. Our kilted hero from Barcelona played two songs, and managed to have the entire place in stitches the whole time. Quote of the night (in a thick Spanish accent): "I am not a good singer, but I enjoy singing, so your going to enjoy it too!"