How To Be An Alrightish Waitress, Sort Of

Being a waitress/waiter is a standard studenty job. It involves many skills that students already have: standing around trying to look busy, making coffee and pretending to be interested in the small talk of strangers.

Having waitressed at two different cafes recently, I thought I would share what different people look for in a waitress, and how to attempt to fulfil it. 


Meet Alice the waitress number 1, or Farm Shop Cafe Alice.

She is characterised by often wearing woollen jumpers or cardigans and having an in depth knowledge of the local weather. Without joking, I often research the weather before going to work to make sure I am well informed enough to participate in conversations with the elderly people who so often populate the cafe. 
Go to lines include
'Lovely weather we're having, what a nice change. Of course it won't last!'
'Awful weather we're having, but I suppose we're used to it. Hope it won't last!'
Generally, the customers are quite friendly, some to the point that I worry their children and grandchildren don't visit them often enough. They often like a chat, and after the initial panic when I run out of my rehearsed responses, it's quite pleasant.


Here is Alice the waitress number 2, otherwise known as Art Gallery Cafe Alice.

Look out for the oversized glasses, waistcoats/patterned dresses and an expression that says 'I like to pretend I know about art'. 

There are some lovely people who come to this cafe, but there are also a few irritating arty people. I know, I am studying History of Art. I wear big glasses. I'm kind of one of them. But I don't wander round art galleries clutching my camera like it's a prop, then go the adjacent cafe to discuss how terribly derivative the exhibition was.

It's important to know how to deal with these people in a kind and humane way, without letting them know you despise everything about them (partly out of shame that you can see the similarities between them and yourself). I find a good method is to echo their air of superiority and entitlement, but to a slightly lesser extent. You must be the inferior superior wanker, so they can happily tip you out of pity that you are merely a waitress at an art gallery cafe, while they study art. Despite the fact you once sat next to them in a crowded lecture theatre and learned about medieval Italian art.

I feel like I'm needlessly whining about small negatives, but in general I really like being a waitress. And given the degree I'm halfway through, I'm likely to be waitress for a very long time.

Great Lies To Tell Small Children

There is a book I really like called Great Lies to Tell Small Children. 

So I thought, as I should be studying for the exam I have in two days, I should add some of my own favourite lies. After all, it's only a Sociology exam, it's not like it's a real subject. 

These are all lies I have tested on my little brothers, and all relatively harmless. Not that I tell them falsities on a regular basis and without reason, these are all lies which serve a purpose. Usually my laziness. 

Let me begin with my favourite lies, which all involve monsters. 

One cold rainy day when my brother Hamish was about 3, he asked, with love and affection in his eyes, if I would take him outside to play in the garden. As I said, it was a cold rainy day. Naturally, I told him we couldn't, as there was a monster hiding in the tree.

This seemed like a good idea at the time, as after assurances that the monster couldn't come into our house, he was quite alright about the whole thing. However on our next walk through a wooded area, Hamish seemed to have developed a spontaneous fear of trees. 

Seeing how effective this story had been, I later adapted it to make bathtimes easier. Did you know that monsters can only find children by smell, and clean children don't smell at all? Hamish still re-tells this story, spreading the knowledge.   

Both boys have the unfortunate habit of nose picking, so another little lie was needed here. The explanation of it being unhygienic and unpleasant wasn't sufficient, so 'germs live in your nose' became 'Germans live in your nose'. And we all know what happens when you upset Germans. 

There are also the more standard fibs, which I think most people have to adhere to around small kids. Generally these involve pretending something is not at all funny, when really your lungs have collapsed with trying not to laugh. I often have to do this when Ruaridh grabs his big brothers head and thrusts it under water in a bath while giggling maniacally. Or when Hamish in rage and frustration shouts nonsense words at me, until he stumbles across 'YOU DIRTY DITCH STREET RAT!'. 

Probably my favourite lie, which I intend to keep telling them over and over until they stop believing me, is the biggest.  When one of my lovely, trusting brothers asks, 'but how do you know this/ how did you fix this/ why did you do that?', my answer will always be

Because I'm a genius.

MY decade is like, so better than yours

I don't understand all the nostalgia and protectiveness people have towards the decade they grew up in. I used to think it was because I was a child in the 90s, and the 90s were rubbish. But then... they made a comeback. 
Chronologically impossible, I know.



Now there are angsty girls walking around with smudgey makeup wearing over sized shirts and Nirvana tops, talking about how Kurt was 'like, such a genius and so totally understands me like no one else'. 
I love it. 
It only irritates me because I can't take part properly. The whole thing requires you to be a misunderstood teen who is oppressed by adults. I only have a year left of being a teenager, I have my own flat, and if I refuse to work at uni its only myself I'm screwing over. THERE IS NOTHING TO REBEL AGAINST.


Also you have to be naive enough to believe that Kurt Cobain would still be as idolised as a god had he lived to grow into an ageing, overweight reality TV star.


There is another problem I have with the revival; it is not the 90s that I remember. Part of this is because by the new millennium I was only 7 years old. I was too busy roller blading around in flowery leggings and tie-dye tops, listening to Steps and...

  
Yeah, you'd forgotten about THAT side of 90s fashion.





The problem is also that the majority of people who are reclaiming the 90s are.. cunty hipsters.
They liked 90s fashion when it was still the 80s.


The thing with hipsters is that although I hate their attitude, they accidentally stumble across some good looking clothes now and then. So its much easier to hate on other people. Like emos. 
To me, emos are the hangover of the 90s. 

Again, I blame Kurt Cobain. Making depression cool since 1994. 
It does irritate me that the good old fashioned angst and anger of the 90s (which I have come to understand through watching My So Called Life) has developed into the apathy of the noughties  and the... what are we calling them? Tens? Teens? 2000 onwards anyway. I find it much healthier to channel your hatred against the people around you than to yourself. It is why I'm the well adjusted individual I am today :') There are very few things more satisfying to do as a teenager than staging a dramatic storm out, complete with door slamming and screaming 'YOU JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND ME!'

I did my best as a misunderstood 15 year old to make life as difficult as possible for my generally very understanding parents, and to rebel against my fairly conventional and loving childhood. I feel many of the young teens today are letting the side down, or perhaps the adults of this decade are trying to hard to be accepting. 
Either way, I am dissapointed by the Skins generation. Even in said programme, the teens are too wankered to bother engaging in any real emotion, apart from self love. Their parents and teachers, rather than slapping some sense into them, try to understand and accommodate their needs, ruining the fun for everyone. 
And as teens are the most impressionable people, they will do as directed by the programmes on E4. 


So, I too am joining the 90s revival. Based on my need to be horrible to everyone and feel unique and misunderstood. I may even start a band.

Let us be EPIC

I have a bit of a thing for epic films.

By epic, I don't mean 'oh dude, that's like, totally epic.' I mean large scale, saving the world, huge battles, questing kind of films. And if most of the characters die during the process... well, all the better.

So, if you are on holiday, feeling bored, or are trying to avoid doing any work/ studying, I thought I would offer you a guide to what kind of film you should be watching.

(If a film has this guy in it, you can assume its worth watching)

Firstly, here are some things to avoid. 

Never, ever be seduced by any film for which the poster/DVD cover is a picture involving a man and woman smiling or exchanging intimate looks. Even if its title is a witty pun. 

Avoid any film that culminates in a Prom or similar ball like event.

Never even consider a film starring J-Lo. 

Moving swiftly on. Things to look for.

There should be a lot of striding. Striding across open fields, large mountains, striking landscapes. All to powerfully emotional, yet stoic music. This striding should also be taking the protagonist towards either finding something, or destroying something. Despite the lack of landmarks or clear path, a map will never be consulted.

Maps are for losers.

Although there will be a main character who has been 'chosen' for a specific task, it is his wingman who really saves the day. 

Expect large amounts of bromance... occasionally the line between bromance and all out lusting becomes blurred. 

Generally my favourite epic films are set in a fictional land with mythical creatures and magic involved, as long as the creatures aren't sparkly. This often seems to allow actors with less than perfect acting skills into the film. Its how Orlando Bloom is paying his kids through school.

I include The Matrix in my list purely for the number of billowing cloaks

Obviously large scale battles are a must, but there are certain things which must come up in said battles. A sidekick must die, and it would also be nice if the main character could be killed, only to come back due to something no one really understands. Big explosions and 'I'm really very angry' faces are also important.

Obviously I wasn't going to write this post without a small Harry Potter mention, and he does pull a nice angry face.

I also like it when during all this death and destruction someone takes the time to make a witty remark, along the lines of 'Not my daughter, you bitch' or 'I AM NO MAN!'

Yet however much I love these films, they always leave me a little sad. Partly because my life is not an epic film, but also because once the mission has been accomplished.... what happens? 19 years later, everyone sends their kids off to the same school they went to, looking no different apart from more grown up hair? Everyone sails off with the elves? 

I'm pretty sure after the battle has been won, everyone just needs to sit down, have a cup of tea and begin looking for a decent trauma councillor. 

What Harry Potter Taught Me

I have been meaning to write on this subject for a while. I firmly believe that the Harry Potter books contain everything a rational human will ever need to know, more so than any religion. So, here are a few reasons why.


I should probably explain I have an extreme hatred for the rival series Twilight. I use the word 'rival' in the loosest possible sense. I once made an attempt at reading the books, and could feel the vocabulary part of my brain crying. It is bad enough to write a book about a teenage girl in first person, I am one, I know how fucking irritating and angsty they are, but one who who has no basic eloquence is even worse. I can only assume the woman who wrote it is a moron. (I want to make a pun about the fact that she is also a mormon, but I think I've made it before, and unlike the aforementioned Stephenie Mayer, I don't like to repeat myself. Over and over.)

The 'characters' in Twilight allow me to use some wonderful words in order to describe them. Limp, weak, flacid, vapid, transparant... 
I could continue with the Twilight hating, but I may save that for a post all of its own. Back to Harry Potter. I found a quote which I think adequately sums up my point here:

Harry Potter is about confronting fears, finding inner strength and doing what is right in the face of adversity, Twilight is about how important it is to have a boyfriend.

When Bella (the necrophiliac) is abandoned by her undead boyfriend, she curls into the foetal    position, basically stays there for months, then jumps off a cliff. When Hermione is abandoned by the boy she loves, she mans the fuck up and gets on with destroying horcruxes. 
If you believe the film, she does a bit of awkward dancing, but I go by the original gospel.


Moving on.
Harry Potter also taught me, a chubby awkward kid, that chubby awkward kids like Neville would one day lead a revolution and save the world. While wearing something practical, yet cool. Like a cardigan.

Also, that if you like someone long enough, get possessed by a dark Lord and then rescued by said person, then make them jealous by slutting about, you will one day marry them and make babies. Well done Ginny. You ginger whore.


Apart from anything else, I just love the bromance of Harry Potter. Its full of people practically queuing up to die for each other. Not that I condone extreme friendship or anything. But do you think the riots in England would ever have happened if we'd all been teaming up to fight Voldemort? I think not.

Despite the threat of death and dismemberment at Hogwarts being high, even for a boarding school, are any of the pupils ever running to Dumbledore to talk about how they feel like they just don't belong/ are missing home/ struggling with their sexuality? No, and not because its a fictional place, but because Wizards are such supportive and accepting people. We should all learn from them. Except Death Eaters. They're not very nice people.


I would also like to point out that Harry Potter offers THE best chat up lines in the world:


'Hey baby, I may be a Gryffindor, but something in my pants is a Slytherin.'
'You know before she met me, Moaning Myrtle was just called Myrtle.'
'You know Platform 9 and 3/4? Well I know something else with the same exact measurements.'


You're welcome ;)


Just a final point, as this has been rather long. As Harry Potter is set at a high school, albeit a magic one, it puts it in a category with other high school books and films. Endless amusement can be had by mixing them.

FREEEEEEEEEDOM!!

I find the whole concept of nationalism quite hilarious.

The idea that living on a certain piece of land, divided by some imaginary line makes two humans completely different has never really appealed to me. 
But that may just be because I'm Scottish.
Scottish people are so uncool, in the most famous film about Scotland the lead character is played by an American with an Irish accent.

So, I have decided to try to embrace my love (cough) of Scotland, a country with some of the highest rates of suicides and teen pregnancies in Europe. Here is a list of things I like about being Scottish.


Number One
No matter where you go in the world, people will be so delighted that you are an English speaking non-English, non-American, they will instantly adore you. Unless of course you are in England or America. Which brings me to my next point.

Number Two

Every American you will ever meet will claim to be related to you. Maybe not directly.. but they will have 'scotch' ancestors. Or perhaps Irish. Maybe Welsh. Any kind of British that is not English. Not that Americans realise Scotland is part of Britain, I have heard some claim it is an island off the coast of Norway.


I know this picture doesn't really fit the point I'm making, but its laughing at Americans. I enjoy it.


I suppose that is part of being Scottish; having a deep suspicion of other countries, and looking down on them for no apparent reason.


Number Three
Our national dress. Everyone looks cool in tartan, even Katy Perry. And that's really saying something.


Number Four
I doubt if even half the Scottish population could tell you when Scotland was last independent, or when it became part of Britain. We have our own language, but less than 2% of us have any ability in it. Yet get a few drinks in the average, middle aged Scottish man and he will ramble on about Scottish independence and 'WHAT DID THE ENGLISH EVER DO FOR US?!'
So yes, sheer ignorance. I love that.


Number Five

Sean Connery.


  

Bah Humbug (but not really)

Mocking the traditions of Christmas is just too easy. So of course I'm going to do it.

I like to think I'm quite tolerant of religions in general. With possible exceptions for Jehovah's Witnesses, Scientologists (not really a religion, just a cult) and Mormons. A Mormon wrote Twilight. And it even sounds like 'moron'. But I'm not the biggest fan of religious events like Christmas.
I know Christmas barely counts as a religious event any more, which I am quite happy about. Apparently (I use the word 'apparently' in the way The Sun uses it, to avoid saying 'this is pure hearsay and likely to be untrue') Christmas has taken the place of an old Pagan festival anyway So its really not that sacred. 

If you're going by what Christmas is really about, you're just going to get really depressed. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I will tell you a nice story.
Once upon a time a cute little baby was born. He had a nice childhood, with his mum, Mary and his dad, Joseph. Oh wait... His real dad was God Almighty himself, but luckily Joseph was a cool dude, and didn't mind his girl being impregnated by a supernatural being, then raising the miracle working baby as his own. 
Actually that bit is quite pleasant, even if it is a bit Jeremy Kyle. Just imagine those DNA results...
But then you move a few years down the line, and the cute baby is tortured and killed by the very people he was sent to save, by a father who had intended this all along. There is the sad bit.
So lets forget about the religious aspect. I'm not religious, my family isn't particularly, but I don't want to miss out on the experience.
By experience, I mean presents.

So yeah, every year Christmas seems to be more and more commercial and on acid. I LOVE IT. I have given up on bah humbugging and being miserable, I'll save that for New Year now.
Also, I LOVE the John  Lewis Christmas advert. I don't care that the miserable man who writes for The Guardian said something about how anyone who cries watching it is crying out IQ points. Fuck off, snob. And that's really an insult, coming from me.

Its a really cute kid being excited about giving his parents a present! COME ON?! How heartless do you have to be to deny that this moves you? Especially as you remember that when you were a kid... it was all about the receiving.


So yes. This Christmas I will freak out about not being able to pay my bills, never mind buy presents, then calm the fuck down and enjoy being with my family, eating foods that will make me jolly (fat) and opening presents. Oh, and giving presents. Yay!