Today I started a second job. At the golf course I work at, the owner has been trying and trying and trying to get a clubhouse built. In the hierarchy of money-making at golf courses, the course makes the most, then a clubhouse, then sales in stock at the pro shop. So, considering we had one and three, it was only time till two became a feature at our course.
It is a clubhouse/ function centre. A smart move seeings that golf isn’t a 24 hours sport. The clubhouse allows us to tap into the ‘night market’. You can book it out, drop in for a meal etc. The prices are reasonable, the food is very good, and there is a bar.
I’ve worked in the pro sho (in one form or another) since Year 11 – five years. It’s been my first job and I quite like it (despite the grumblings I’ve had in the past). Then when the clubhouse was opened on Thursday, I told my boss (seeings I have my R.S.A.) that I was more than happy to work any day, any hours, at the bar or milling around in the kitchen – washing up, cleaning, doing anything I was able. My boss asked me to work Sunday and bada-bing bada-boom I started working in a restaurant.
First thing I did was start behind the bar. I’d done my R.S.A. some time ago and I’d never poured a beer for a customer before. And knowing every customer who walked through the door (and how I’d be given a hell of a time if I screwed up) to say I was nervous is quite an understatement. And, to compound the problem, my first customer was my father. Now if anyone reading this knows me I quite enjoy having a joke when people stuff things up. I get this from my father. But my father is ten times worse (or better?) at it. He asked for a schooner of New. I managed to poor it with little trouble.
The next two were atrocious! Then I started to get the hang of it when another staff member showed me a few tips. More practice is required, but I think I’ll get the hang of it eventually.
I did some work in the kitchen too. A lot of it was washing up – which I enjoy – because I failed miserably at cutting a bread-roll in half. One of my hobbies is woodworking (woodturning especially), so my ‘touch’ isn’t quite suited to cutting rolls. They came out looking like slices of bread. Considering the rest of the food preparation required home economic skills, I washed. Then I was taught how to use one of those coffee machines that look like they can read minds – you know the ones. The size of a small house. Not so hard, but it might take a few to get the hang of it. You need to measure temperatures – that’s over-the-top in my coffee-making books. Mine recipe is:
coffee grind + hot water + sugar + cup = coffee!
Apparently not everyone is as basic in taste as me. Anyway, with that done (and in between tasks) I did rounds to pick up empties glasses and plates. There weren’t many people there which made it good because I wouldn’t want to be ‘learning on the job’.
Anyway, I mustn’t have been that bad because I got asked to come in again – and for longer. I think I prefer it more than the pro shop because the there are so many little, annoying, minute things to do there, as well as the rest of the job, as well as that being where all customers go to complain. But I still want to do both. Considering I’m off till March, I’ll be asking to work every day.