Category Archives: Uncategorized

Blackridge Wrestling: In aid of Cancer Research

br

Nestled quietly in West Lothian, the small town of Blackridge sits snugly in between noisier neighbours in Glasgow and Edinburgh; both of which have seen a huge resurgence in local independent wrestling in recent years. Blackridge however, had never seen a wrestling event in their town. Local resident and wrestling fan, Martin McGreskin looked to change this by promoting an evening of quality local wrestling, with the promise of crowning the first ever King Of Blackridge, in an eight man elimination tournament.

Also advertised: a title defence by SSW Champion Kid Fite against PBW’s Dylan Angel.

With the Craig Inn Centre bathed in glorious sunshine and much of the proceeds going towards a worthy cause close to Martin’s heart, it didn’t take much persuasion for the town to turn up in force.

Their good faith was to be rewarded; This was one hell of a night. 

1st Quarter-Final Match in the inaugural King Of Blackridge Tournament:

Donnie T vs Lucha DS

The high-flying masked luchadore DS, may have expected to ride the momentum of energy around Craig Inn during the opening bout, but any attempted drive became stalled by an unimpressed looking Donnie T. The overly brash and confident DT seemed in no rush get the match started. When the two eventually did lock up, DS found himself grounded once more, overpowered by a much larger and stronger opponent. However, grounding LuchaDS is one thing; keeping him down is another. As the pace quickened, a suicide dive to the floor and a high Cross Body had Donnie T reeling. An impressive Springboard into an RKO resulted in a (very) near fall. DT hit back with a powerful spear, which almost sent him into the Semi-Final. But it was LuchaDS with a 619 and a top rope Swanton that sealed it in the end, progressing him to the next round.

2nd Quarter-Final Match

David The Beloved vs Wee Jay Smalls w Chantelle

If pace was missing during the early goings of the opening bout, there was plenty of it here. The tenacious Wee Jay Smalls quickly and expertly spilled the arrogant and vocal David The Beloved to the outside with a smart hurricanrana, after taking exception to DTB laying his hands on valet, Chantelle. There was no let up from Wee Jay until a wicked looking clothesline by DTB seemed to change the complexion of the match. Wee Jay (who showcased a tonne of heart) continued to trouble his larger opponent with speed and ring awareness. But, ultimately, David The Beloved proved that he is every bit as good as he said he was, spiking Wee Jay with a second rope DDT and an expertly applied German Suplex into a bridge for the three count. David The Beloved progressed to the second Semi-Final.

 

3rd Quarter-Final Match

Saqib Ali vs Brandon Adams

A familiar face to many, Brandon Adams was a dark horse going into this tournament: one half of the SSW Tag Team Champions looking to make a mark as a singles competitor. Saqib Ali on the other hand, didn’t come to Blackridge to make friends. A win for the canny ‘Sultan of Swing’ here though would go along way in making a mark of his own.

Despite initially avoiding the sharp kicks of Adams, Ali struggled gain a foothold on this match until a stiff Clothesline and a Standing Suplex gave Saqib the upper hand. In truth, these two athletes were evenly matched, as they jostled on the top rope in attempt to gain any advantage. A missed Super-kick by Adams into an Inside Cradle by Ali, almost snatched a three count. In the end, Adams was caught coming into the ring by a stiff kick to the middle rope by Ali. This brief window allowed for Ali to hit a brutal looking Curb Stomp for the 1,2,3, sending him through to the second semi-final.

4th Quarter-Final Match

Jonathan Richards vs Kaiden King

If Adams was a dark horse in this eight man tournament, Kaiden King was surely the odds on favourite. King was greeted to a hero’s welcome by the young crowd at ringside, and it was very clear that King had intentions of taking the title of ‘King of Blackridge’ home with him. Standing in his way was Jonathan Richards: a man that perhaps was overlooked as a viable contender for the title. Although Richards proclaimed before he match that he “couldn’t find Blackridge on Google Maps” he certainly found a foothold in this match, silencing the rowdy crowd by working tirelessly on the knee of King. Any comeback by King looked unlikely as Richards wrapped the knee not once, not twice, but three times around the steel ring post. A painful looking Half Boston Crab in the middle of the ring, applied on the already damaged knee of King had Kaiden on the verge of tapping out. But the sheer toughness and resolve of King somehow managed to find him to the bottom rope to break the count. The bottom rope would save King again, grabbing on to break the count after a Pedigree by Richards. A frustrated figure in Richards would bring a steel chair into the ring. With imminent danger present, King struggled out of a second Pedigree attempt and caught Richards with a lightening quick RKO, sending Kaiden King into the last semi-final match. But would Kaiden be 100%?

  • At Interval, Hot Dogs, drinks and raffle tickets were all on sale, in aid of Cancer Research UK. Martin is also collecting donations via a Just Giving page. If you would like to donate to Cancer Research UK, you can do so via the link here

IMG_0292

1st Semi-Final Match:

David The Beloved vs LuchaDS

A pairing of contrasting styles awaited the fans in the first of the semi-final match ups. An over zealous David The Beloved looked to gain the upper hand straight from the bell, rushing LuchaDS. However, DS had this scouted, sending the egotistical DTB over the top rope to the floor and nailing him with a majestic Moonsault from the apron. DTB recovered well from the early setback, spiking DS with a hard shoulder tackle which had the Luchadore rocked. Much like Kaiden King earlier, LuchaDS showed great resolve and looked to have one foot in the final. DS climbed high to the top rope, looking to deliver a Swanton Bomb that would surely send DTB packing. But as DS came soaring down, DTB managed to raise his knees up just in time, and followed up with a devastating modified Enziguri for the three count. David The Beloved would go on to the final in a hard fought victory.

2nd Semi-Final Match:

Saqib Ali vs Kaiden King

Although Kaiden King was in the semi-final, he would have an uphill battle against a fresher looking Ali. Kaiden had been through a war with Jonathan Richards earlier in the evening and looked to be carrying a rib injury on top of his already damaged knee. And like a shark to blood, a crafty Saqib Ali would target these injuries after cowardly attacking Kaiden before the bell. It seemed only a matter of time until Ali knocked off the ever popular King. But suddenly, Ali found himself on the receiving end of an RKO putting him down for the three count! Kaiden King moved onto the final, showing great determination against ever stacking odds. Would this be his night?

SSW World Championship Match:

Kid Fite(c) vs Dylan Angel

Sometimes in wrestling, words can not describe the feeling surrounding a match nor do justice to what took place. This was an incredibly special match by two very technical, hard hitting and talented performers. The crafty veteran Kid Fite and his PBW prodigy, Dylan Angel left everything in the ring for the raucous Blackridge crowd. You could forgive the young fans for getting excited; not only was this for the SSW Title, Fite was on fine heinous form, letting the fans know exactly how he felt about them. As the young fans rushed the ring in protest of Fite and in support of Angel, the match itself looked like it may never get under way! When it did, the Blackridge crowd was in for a treat.

Chain wrestling dominated the early stages as both men vied for position. There was very little between the two as both looked for an opening. Angel looked the likelier to gain the advantage, climbing the top rope looking to come down hard on Fite with an Axe Handle. Fite had this covered though and met Angel with a swift kick to the abdomen followed by an agonizing looking kick to Angel’s lower back. Fite, ever the opportunist, proceeded to lay into Angel, landing a stiff looking uppercut and a high back elbow turning him inside out.

What was a vocal and energetic crowd, now fell silent as Fite brutally dissected Angel. The high-flying PBW star, for now was grounded. But perhaps with the SSW title in mind, he dug down deep, mustering an enziguri to the back of Fite’s head. A spirited contender, who looked like he had just enough of Kid Fites brutality, forcefully sent Fite to the outside with as hard a chop as you are ever likely to see or hear. This descended the SSW title match into an all out brawl. The referee could not control the two as they spilled out the fire exit into grounds behind them, followed by a horde of young Blackridge fans.

The battle continued around ringside as the two went blow for blow. When the action eventually made it back into the ring, the referee may have wished he had called for a disqualification: after some amazing near falls and as Angel went to the top rope one more time, the referee was pushed into the very same ropes by Fite causing Angel to lose his balance. This allowed for Kid Fite to hit his devastating Lock-back DDT for the victory in what was a fascinating and unforgettable match.

Winner and still SSW World Champion: Kid Fite.

Final Match in the King of Blackridge Tournament:

Kaiden King vs David The Beloved

And it all came down to this. Two men, fighting it out to be crowned the first ever King of Blackridge. David The Beloved: who powered his way through to the final against two terrific high flyers. Against Kaiden King: who showed real courage, knocking off two dangerous opponents when all seemed lost. As the night had descended into all out anarchy, David The Beloved and Kaiden King were not to be out-shined, taking the action to the outside from the get go. King sent DTB head first into the steel ring post, which seemed to allow for some rest bite for King to assess his previous injuries. But it seemed DTB may have been fishing for a chance to target the walking wounded as shortly after, King found himself laid out after being brutally whipped into the ring steps and beaten down by an enraged DTB.

As the action spilled back into the ring, the crown looked destined to be placed upon the head of The Beloved. A wicked DDT and a high kick to the temple all but sealing the victory. But if there was thing the Blackridge fans learned that evening, was to never count out Kaiden King. And once again, when all seemed lost, King somehow managed to hit an RKO on a stunned DTB picking up the victory.IMG_0302

Your winner, and the first ever King of Blackridge, Kaiden King.

After the match as King was celebrating, Kid Fite made a shocking reappearance, holding the SSW Title Belt high in the air. The message was loud and clear:

The King may have a crown for now, but the throne belongs to Kid Fite.

Martin’s Just Giving Page

Advertisements

SSW Review:“Rowdy” Roddy Piper Memorial Tournament

Just a stone’s throw away from The Regal Theatre in Bathgate, the Broxburn Bowling Club became the interim home for an afternoon of SSW action. In association with FOCC (Friends of Chernobyl’s Children West Lothian), eight men battled it out to be crowned the first ever winner of the “Rowdy” Roddy Piper memorial tournament. Although a victory in memory of the great man himself may have been incentive enough, a trophy fitting of “Hot Rod” himself sat ringside. To claim such an accolade? Not one; not two; but three matches in quick succession in what would prove to be a highly physical and competitive afternoon.

In the first quarter-final, the high flying Lucha DS, squared off with a unimpressed looking Prince Assad. Assad, who was distracted by the crowd at ringside, began the match by pacing the outside, much to the frustration of the masked DS. Eventually, the two would tie up with Assad getting the better of his opponent in the early stages, grounding the high flying luchadore with some painful looking leg locks and submissions. However, Lucha DS somehow found an opening and delivered a blunt looking kick to the head followed by a pinpoint super kick to a stunned Assad. Although Assad would prove his resolve by sticking with an energetic DS, he struggled to recover any momentum of his own and fell to a second rope Swanton, advancing DS to the semi-final.

The second quarter-final saw the intimidating, “The Man They Call ‘Butler'”go up against a much smaller, but game, Dylan Angel. Despite having the size advantage, Butler seized further leverage by jumping both the bell, and Angel from behind. Butler bagan systematically grounding and pounding Angel, until a flurry of venomous looking kicks rocked the big man. However, Butler would prove too strong for Angel delivering a devastating F5, moving him on to the second Semi-final.

In what could only be described as an upset, a cocky Jonathon Richards somehow managed to navigate himself into the semi’s, by side-stepping a familiar face in Dave.S.Jeremi. With the crowd firmly behind Jeremi, Richards found himself humiliated and on the losing end of a series of impromptu trials with young SSW hopefuls sitting at ringside. Although embarrassed in tests of strength; forward rolls; on the mic; and even by Nikki Jeremi herself, ultimately Richards would find a weakness (when the match eventually got under way) by breaking down the knee and leg of Dave.S. Jeremi and hastily exiting with the 1,2,3.

The Firestorm champion, Mikey Ratings squared off against the ever-colourful and agile, Brandon Adams in the last of the quarter-final match ups. In what was arguably match of the afternoon, a series of counters and close falls made it hard to predict a winner between the two. At one point, Ratings somehow countered a superkick attempt into a chokeslam leaving the crowd stunned as Adams dug deep to kick out. With the referee distracted, frustration would get the better of Ratings. An attempt to nail Adams with the Firestorm belt backfired, as Adam’s sent the belt back into the face of Ratings with an expertly timed superkick. As a result, Adam’s sent himself into the last remaining semi-final spot and Mikey Ratings packing.

In the first semi-final, a renewed Jonathon Richards put on quite a showing against the masked luchadaore, Lucha DS. A series of near falls peppered this back and forth match but, ultimately, a reverse DDT followed by a majestic top rope Swanton from DS would see off a dogged Richards.

In the second, Butler continued his dirty tricks, despite being superior in size and brute strength over his opponent, Brandon Adams. A relentless Butler struggled to keep down a tenacious Adams, even with some brutal looking throws and German suplexes delivered. In a moment of contraversy at the Broxburn Bowling Club and in perhaps in nod to the great Roddy Piper himself, Butler delivered a brazen low blow out of sight of the referee. This gave Butler a brief window to lock a spent Adams into a painful looking submission maneuver to the neck. Adams quickly tapped, but his efforts did not go unappreciated by the Broxburn crowd.

In the final match of the Roddy Piper Memorial Tournament, a rested Lucha DS looked to take advantage of a spent, but still dangerous Butler. However, early in the match, a disgruntled Prince Assad who had made his way to ringside, had other ideas, pulling the referee out when it seemed DS had the trophy in the bag. The attention of the whole locker room was drawn, as carnage broke out in the ring at Broxburn Bowling Club. This rendered the final a no contest and with no clear winner of the tournament, it was announced by SSW management that an over the top rope Battle Royal would commence to declare the winner. Adams and Mikey Ratings continued their earlier feud by eliminating each other. Jonathon Richards would continue to be embarrassed by SSW’s young trainees, who helped lower the top rope to assist Dave.S.Jeremi in eliminating Richards. Jeremi would soon follow as well as Assad and finally Dylan Angel, leaving the two men who started the final to begin with to battle it out. With Butler’s clear size advantage, the match, trophy and prestige of being the first ever winner of the tournament seemed there for the taking. But, the high flying DS would see off a charging Butler, side-stepping and sending him over the top rope for the victory.

Arguably the deserving winner in an action packed afternoon of wrestling in aid of FOCC (Friends of Chernobyl’s Children West Lothian), in the first ever Roddy Piper Memorial Tournament: Lucha DS!

LuchaDS - Copy


Half Baked: Lessons Learned From a Dead End Career In Hospitality – Part 1.

Pappas Kitchen

I’d go on to associate 3:00am on a Sunday morning with stumbling home drunk from town: eighty quid down, my trainers scuffed to bits and guided by streams of piss and the stench of Joop to the nearest 24 hour bakery. Before those bleary years, there was a time that I’d be ‘working’ at this god awful hour, before I would notice what laborious road I was hurtling down; and about eleven hours before your mum had the dinner on. I’d go on to work in many restaurants, cafes and bars. But it all began in my dad’s small bakery in Torry at the unsullied age of twelve. This was work experience. An introduction to the working world and a literal awakening by a tinny cheap alarm clock picked up from the cash and carry.

My dad always worked in the industry. A baker by trade and a grafter. Growing up, I have memories of him dotting about the city from A to B, looking to pick something up or sort something out. I would be given the choice of coming in or waiting in the car, as he went down some unspecified stairwell or chap on the back door. I would usually pick the latter as these visits tended to be lengthy, despite the assurance of “just popping in”. As he would talk about…whatever the hell bakers talked about, I’d get to try the cakes or be shown how something is done or how a machine works. For example, he worked in a little shop that specialized in wedding cakes. I remember being given a blank cake board and a piping bag with various coloured icing to play with. This was the equivalent of pencils and paper to keep me busy and kept me out of the way. I didn’t mind. I found these experiences fascinating. I fondly remember meeting some local characters and learning how an industrial kitchen functioned.

My dad would go on to buy The Pantry: a small, no thrills bakery that catered mainly for the early morning trade. Initially, he ran the place single-handedly, although help would come in later in the morning to serve the public. I think he found the experience somewhat lonely. In my opinion, the best part of any kitchen job (bar, you know, actually cooking things and completing a successful service) is the social environment created by you and your colleagues. Working side by side with the right team can keep you going throughout a long day. Without that, you may only have the radio for company and the inner workings of a tired brain.

wood-tools-1416960

On Saturday night, I’d go to bed fully clothed because…that’s what grown-ups do?..dreading the inevitable 3:00am wake up from my tinny pocket alarm clock; and my dad who would absurdly wake me up a minute or two before it went off. I often ignored his attempts to wake me in hope that I would get away with not going. This had limited success. I’d lumber into the car in pitch darkness and sleep for most of the journey, awakened as we approached the bakery, by the stench of fresh fish and the sound of screeching seagulls.

Opening up was always the worst part: lighting all the stoves, cranking them up full blast to get some heat into the kitchen; waiting for hot water to boil and counting the minutes and seconds until you could take your jacket off. Front of house was basic but practical: brightly coloured price tags peppered the walls and the display cabinets lay dark and bare. Between the hours of three and six, my dad would systematically work through producing pies, cakes, pancakes, etc. I’d be tasked with putting them on display, cleaning and other odd jobs. We’d also get deliveries during this time. I’d find myself making cups of teas and bacon rolls for the tradesman either ending or beginning their shift. You could usually tell which, by the dirtiness of their overalls and the level of weariness in their voice when they ordered.

As the morning went on and darkness fell to light, the bakery would get busier and I would get chirpier, knowing that the arrival of day come with my departure. I’d either get a lift home from my grandfather who would often help out; or from some indistinguishable woman who would do the sandwich run around local offices and drop me off on the way back. Before leaving, I would walk up to Blockbuster Video to rent a couple of Mega Drive games – this is how I would spend the rest of my weekend.

These sporadic shifts would indicate who I would become in the working world. My dad would go on to sell The Pantry and I dodged diabetes as a result. His next acquisition would be something far more exciting…The tinny alarm clock never did ring again. Where as I, was just beginning to chime.


Discovery Wrestling Review: Portobello Town Hall: 31/7/15.

Disco Wrestling

Preview

Friday night in Portobello Town Hall, saw the return of Discovery Wrestling, an event more than two months in the making due to the cancellation of May’s scheduled show at Sighthill Campus. Fans disappointed not to see  Mexican Lucha legend Juventud Guerrera; and Ring Of Honor’s recently departed, Tomasz Ciampa, were rewarded by a main event appearance by Indie darling, Chris Hero; and Stevenson’s own Grado in what was an already stacked card. Unfortunately, Discovery Champion, Chris Sabin could not wrestle in what would have been his first title defense due to injury. More on that later…

The Event

The night kicked off with a technical showpiece between crowd favourite lewis Girvan and the debuting, Michael Chase. A series of submission manoevres, counters and mat grappling set the match off to a slow but impressive start. However, the pace soon picked up, as a couple of near pin falls and high risk top rope moves allowed for both men to showcase their abilities on another level. Girvan picked up the win in what was a solid opener.

The Wild Lions were up next in tag action between Scottish veteran, Kid Fite and a mystery partner. Fite was due to tag with ‘Bad Boy’ Liam Thomson, a match scheduled for the ill-fated May event, but dropped out due to injury. The ever colourful and controversial, Davey Blaze prove to be a fitting partner for Fite in a match that saw it’s fair share of drama. Spilling to the outside quickly, the Wild Lions brawled with a the newly formed team of Fite and Blaze, slamming into doors, tables and even Discovery fans. The Lions eventually scrapped to what was a hard-fought victory over a very game, outrageous and dangerous, Blaze and Fite.

Alan Smith (Discovery Wrestling co-owner) came to ring to address the fans. Making a rare appearance, Smith thanked the fans for their loyalty and commitment, and to announce that Chris Sabin will be back to defend his title. However, Smith was soon interrupted by ex Gatecrasher, Dave Conrad, unhappy about not being booked to wrestle. A “you’re not scheduled” chant rang out, leaving Conrad embarrassed and incensed. Conrad then lay out a helpless Smith to the distaste of the Discovery audience. Will there be repercussions?

In what was probably the shock of the evening, another ex Gatecrasher, Christopher Saynt became the number one contender for Sabin’s Y Division title, seeing off the excellent Danny Boy Rodgers, a debuting BT Gunn and the ever intense Lionheart. Saynt spent much of the match cowering on the outside as Rodgers, Gunn and Lionheart battled it out in a terrific encounter. However, Saynt was around when it mattered the most and walked away with the win. Will Saynt be ready to challenge Sabin? This is yet to be seen…

In a huge rematch from Discovery’s first ever event in Meadowbank Sports Centre, Big Damo battled it out with Rampage Brown in a hard-hitting encounter. Rampage walked away with the win last year but was to fall to Damo; a man who has been on quite the roll as of late. A rubber match down the line for these two?

It had been pre-announced that Joe Hendy (Local Hero) would be bringing his hometown challenge to Portobello Town Hall. To the grimace of the Discovery fans, Hendry chose to “allow” his ever entertaining right hand man, Lou King Sharpe, to wrestle on his behalf. Who would take up the challenge? No other than crowd favourite, Grado who wrestled LKS to a highly entertaining match. Hendry picked up the win (technically speaking…) when Grado was counted out due to getting lost coming back to the ring, after chasing LKS who had stolen his car keys. I’ll leave it it that…

Debbie Sharpe and Sammii Jayne picked up a controversial win over Viper, in a two on one handicap match. Sharpe and Jayne (sporting matching attire) struggled to overpower a confident viper but the numbers game soon caught up. The referee failed to see viper’s legs being held as Jayne pinned Viper for the one, two, three.

In the match of the night and the rightful main event, Joe Coffey defeated Chris Hero in a twenty-minute plus classic. Coffey was battered by a barrage of hard-hitting kicks, chops and elbows by the experienced and punishing Hero. However, Hero became a frustrated figure failing to break the spirit of a brave Coffey. Coffey eventually managed to muster enough to turn the tables on Hero, pinning him after a second hard Lariot. Technical as well as brawling at times, Hero and Coffey wrestled a classic that will have everyone talking. A foiled Hero looked to get the last laugh on an exhausted Coffey, coming back to the ring to what looked like an inevitable beat down. To the approval of the Discovery fans, Hero helped Coffey to his feet and thanked him for what was a grueling encounter.

The Discovery fans left happy in what was a night of high drama and fantastic wrestling at the highest standard.


Online: Part 1 – The Early Years.

Surfing on Keyboards? That's phat.

Surfing on keyboards? That’s phat.

At twelve years old, there were three reasons to be home at 6pm: Grounded, dinner, or too dark outside to kick a football about. At thirteen, I’d likely be home at five thirty in preparation for 6pm. I’d mull around upstairs in a room that had not been used for anything other than a dumping ground for paperwork, chairs and clutter of all shapes, sizes and descriptions. Despite years of neglect and with zero redeeming features this room was about to become one of, if not, the most used in the house. Just before six, I would check that my mum wasn’t on the phone – the revived and rejuvenated box room upstairs didn’t allow for phone calls anywhere in the house when in use. The trusted telephone that had served our family for years was now becoming an afterthought, limited, shunned and playing second fiddle to a new form of communication. As the clock pushed six, I’d push the over sized button encased in a semi-hollow shell which looked as dense as a brick. I’d wait impatiently for the system to start as it sluggishly progressed through it’s concealed gears, eventually settling into a calming, hypnotic drone which would persist until commanded otherwise. And as the clock hit six, I’d hit ‘connect’. With one click of the mouse I was ‘dialing’ to the internet. The noise was familiar, as I had heard something similar before in this room years ago, loading up a Spectrum or an Amiga 500. But I couldn’t recall it being so incredibly loud and obnoxious. Even the phone downstairs would echo out this chorus of ear rape, despite being relegated to nothing more than useless plastic and numbers. It was as if a bitter ex was giving a big ‘fuck you’ because of how quickly you moved on. But still, this was it. The sound of the future. The sound of my early teens. The sound of dial-up internet on the new computer.

As ‘surfing’ the internet (is this still even used as a phrase?) was free after 6pm, I would spend much of the evening online. My early memories of this were confusing. I would often wonder, one: should I be looking at this? and two: what the fuck am I looking at? Worryingly, fifteen years later, not much has changed.

Despite my eagerness to log on, I still had no idea where to start. It had not been something in my life that I had longed for nor was it something that I understood or really seen before. But I was intrigued and fascinated. I had also begun to find solutions to problems that only a thirteen year old could have in 1999: I no longer had to listen to the charts on a Sunday afternoon, waiting patiently for my favourite song to come on so I could push ‘record’ on a blank cassette. I now had Limewire to cater for all my music needs.  I would scour Kerrang, Scuzz and P-Rock on the hunt for new pop, nu-metal and punk rock songs to then go on and download. Access to music in this way, despite still being at a fairly primitive stage, was incredible. Some songs could take up to an hour. But that was the least I deserved for being a little pirate whore and listening to Saliva.

I also no longer had to hide porno mags under my mattress; I now had to figure out how to hide files. If I wanted to see Pamela Anderson make Tommy Lee famous on a private yacht, I Just had to give it a few hours (over the course of several days) to download. Video preview didn’t always work either, so it could be a bit of a gamble. I would soon get accustomed to the disappointment of expecting boobs but getting balls, in the form of an episode of Jackass or some weird shaky cam footage. As a consequence, this meant being forced to run the gauntlet of adult websites in the hope that they were free – again, something I didn’t quite get. For all I knew, as soon as my knob was out, the local pimp would come bashing at the door demanding payment.

I assumed my parents were too dense to find out. That said, I was also naive in regards to viruses and the like and soon learned that such sites had the tendency to pounce at anytime with a sexy pop-up ad or some flashy banner. I ran out of excuses and reasoning for these and ran out of mates to blame. So, yeah, they probably knew.

Well, if you insist...

Well, if you insist…

Flash animation was a thing in the late ninety’s and early 2000’s: For me, this was the original time waster. Barring that irritating Badger song, Joe Cartoon’s crops to mind. Interactive animations such as ‘Gerbil in a Microwave’ and ‘Frog in a Blender’, where you could seal the gruesome fate of insulting, talking animals with a click of the mouse, was like heroin for teenagers. They would also form the foundations for most of the shit that was spoken at school: “Who’s your Daddy? Me! Wanna know why I’m your Daddy? Cuz I did it to your mamaaaaaa!” Thankfully, this craze would soon pass to be replaced by other forms of online entertainment.


For All The Cows: I’m back here I guess…

088

Three tins of Red Stripe*, a failed bet (sorry, bets) and awaiting news of a job I have diminishing hope of getting and I’m just about in prime territory for writing. Yeah, throw in a Friday night alone with Radio 6, 4od and frozen pizza and I have all the ingredients for a semi-structured, completely unrelated to anything I’ve just listed, blog entry. All I need now is to post pictures of my dinner and I’ll be near enough suicide. So where do I go from here? Well since my last post was about Belgian beer and I’ve gotten as far as Jamaican lager then I can’t envision much progress. Still, at least that’s somewhere to go from. Will I try to meet somewhere half way? Will I stop asking myself rhetorical questions? Will I ever buy any other frozen pizza other than Ristorante? You bet your arse I won’t.

Travel on the mind.

Literally the view from my laptop.

Literally the view from my laptop.

On the 3rd of November it will be five years to the day that I packed my not so little backpack, pushed back the tears and left Aberdeen to travel for the first time. I wouldn’t have thought that particular day in the calendar would mean that much to me but in all honesty, I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently. My better half and I will be in Paris that weekend and being the sentimental guy I sometimes am, I would like to celebrate it by visiting the Eiffel tower and cracking open a bottle of wine. Now, I’ve been back in Scotland for a year and half now and even been back in Aberdeen for five months of those five but I can honestly say that there is hardly a day goes by where I don’t think of leaving again. And although I have thought and done in the past, I will just have to sit on such thoughts this time around – at least for the time being. I’ll be writing a sick inducing nostalgic entry for the third so if you can’t get enough self vanity, set your reminder for then.

Work to be done.

I started a new job in April which I am really enjoying as a Support Worker, working with homeless adults in supported accommodation. Ironically, I could do with some support myself but I must have failed to mention that at the interview. Regardless, I’m really enjoying it and sincerely think it’s the right job for me. Problem being, I’m only contracted part-time so find myself running around Edinburgh covering shifts in other projects to pay the rent. I realize the importance of a good reference now and finally realize that I need some balance in my life as well as the start of something serious on the job front. Although I’ve worked for a lot of places, in truth, a two-year old could draw all over paper with a green crayon and still create a more credible CV than mine. Time to buckle down and earn a reference/experience in something other than Head Cappuccino Making and Executive Chip Fryer. Although do look out for those jobs on Gumtree. I heard Glasgow is seeking skilled chip fryers for the Commonwealth games.

Needless to say, I am going and I’m tailor made for that role. I’ve retired from track and field.

I Could probably predict the future…

With the other half pegged down for a two-year contract at work and settled now in Edinburgh, it gives me time to focus on my job. I’m hopeful to land a full-time position within the company and would be unfortunate/have no one to blame but myself if I didn’t nail it down. We have been reading off of different pages when it comes to future plans thus far but have amicably agreed that if we were to travel extensively again, it would have to tie in with some sort of job prospects related to what we’re doing now. Hypothetically, I could walk around Bondi beach, offering housing support to backpackers that have spent their last cent but in that will never happen – I hate doing paperwork in the sun…

Realistically one of four thing’s are likely to happen: We end up moving back to Germany; We move down South to London; We travel then use a working visa abroad – i.e.- Canada; We stay in Edinburgh for longer. Simple! Next stop, a house and children and a five door car, but only if I still get to watch wrestling – that’s the deal. Who said life was complicated?

What else is new?

  • Remember I went to college because I thought it would be important to come back to education? Overall it was a waste of fucking time but I did get a grade out of it. I failed Higher German (poor attendance, terrible class structure and a really bad teacher that looked nothing like Cameron Diaz) but I passed Higher English and got an A. In all honesty, it was a great class even though I was the older student who sat at the back hungover and looked like a perv. The problem being with college is that I wanted to do nothing with it, therefore, there was not really any point of me being there. I didn’t want to get into University like most of my class or gain extra highers. I just wanted to do something I enjoyed and be rewarded for it even if it meant I had to work less. So waste of fucking time? Well yes but you know what, I needed it. I thought some sort of study would be good for me and, on reflection, it was. Reading The Great Gatsby over and over, being forced to write for hours and turkey burgers on paper plates – I had no idea what I was missing.
  • After a five-year absence I will be coming home for Christmas: I’ve not been in the country the last five years so it’s not as if I’m the selfish, ungrateful son who has turned his back on his family but still, five years is long enough. Expect a night out on the cards for my birthday on the 27th. I thank the both of you in advance for turning up and you both looked splendid in your new cardigans.

DSCF7037

  • Leaving my worst South African accent at the door, I flew over to Johanesburg in August for my cousin’s wedding. It’s probably something that I’ll go into another time but it was quite a humbling experience spending time with family who you rarely see but who love you so much and are so happy to see you. I was well looked after and truly welcomed with open arms. Being a large chunk of my dad’s heritage, it was a long overdue trip but was incredibly worthwhile.
  • My phone’s knackered – Angry birds? I’m fucking raging.
  • Oh and I ate this. Impressed? Didn’t think so.

DSCF6037

*Make that five.

 


Glass Collecting: 8 Tools to Help You Survive Happy Hour.

The Exchange Hotel, Brisbane, Australia.

The Exchange Hotel, Brisbane, Australia.

Traveling the East Coast of Australia? Looking for work to fund onward travel? Enjoy cleaning up after drunk, drugged and dumb hipsters?

If you answered yes to all three of these questions, I have just the job for you!

Whilst living in Brisbane I worked at a night club, mostly as a waiter during sociable hours. To bump up my wage, I asked to do extra hours at the weekends, picking up glasses after my shift until the very small hours. As you can imagine, this kind of work is monotonous, soul-destroying and incredibly aggravating at times. But hey, it pays and if you need the cash, this can be a good little earner. Based purely on my experience, here are some tips to get you through happy hour. From sick to semen, I have it covered (figuratively of course.)

The Mop

Your induction will consist of a brief introduction of the tools you will need before going into battle. The first of which is the mop –  a 153classic time waster. Some girl has spewed all over the walls in the toilet? Take a break and go for a cigarette, as you’re going to need the fresh air before entering the stench pit. You know what awaits you and the only thing that will change between now and then, is the colour of her shoes and her level of dignity – yours diminished as soon as you signed up for the job. When you finally do arrive, usher drunks out of the cubicle like it’s a crime scene. Do not by any means interact with the culprit. She will have no remorse for her actions and tell you to leave  – which will anger you to no end – and she may be full of disease. Best form of action? Remind yourself at that moment why you need the money and get the cleaning over with as quickly as humanly possible.

Beside practical use, the mop can be used as a deterrent when cornered by jocks and hipsters. You will need to master two skills: The jab and the swing. When asked “Which part of Ireland are you from?” for the 10th time that evening, swing for his thick rimmed shades – he’s inside, it’s dark outside and they look fucking stupid anyway. Then follow-up with a straight jab to the voice box. That will protect your ears from his horribly bad accent.

The Sweeper

The sweeper consists of two items: a long-handled brush and a long-handled pan, both of which are designed to collect everything from cigarette butts to used condoms. At peak times, the sweeper may also be accompanied by a radio. This is to inform you of any breakages on the dance floor, (glass that is not noses) however at times you may feel somewhat patronized by the radio. The sign of a good ‘glassy’, (yes, this is what you will be called) is the ability to hear the sound of glass smashing from anywhere in the club, even over the load obnoxious reggaeton and electro. With practice, you will make it there in time to see some 18-year-old with skinny jeans and a vest, get tackled to the ground by the door staff for not doing much of anything. The entertainment value here is high, so it pays to be alert. Once you have followed the ruckus out the door, go for another cigarette before sweeping up the glass. By this point, nobody cares what you are doing, and neither do you.

Later, try heading out side to sweep. This will give you the opportunity to chat to the attractive door girl, tell the security about how much you hate your job and waste a good twenty minutes.

Top tip when actually sweeping: try using the side of the brush to knock in some butts. It creates more of a challenge and at times the odd butt will jump into the pan satisfyingly.

The Damp Cloth

138Similar to the mop, however the risk of coming in contact with bodily fluids is greater. If for any reason your cloth becomes dry during the evening, you may go behind the bar to damp it. This will give you the chance to engage in two second conversations to whomever is working, but be warned – there is a high chance no one will know your name. You could also use this time to grab a glass of water, marvel at the talent standing at the bar and act like you should  be serving. Be as nonchalant as possible. You’re not serving, but they don’t have to know that. Soon enough money will be shoved in your face and you’ll get screamed at. Walk out and carry on with your shift.

Damp cloth top tip: try wiping tables clockwise. Then anti clockwise. Mix it up and get creative!

The Tray

A classic tool used to stack glasses and the only part of your job that requires any sort of skill level. There is only one practical way to carry the tray and that is above your head, using one hand. There are two reasons for this.

  • In a packed club, absolutely no one will get out-of-the-way for you. Trying to maneuver around with a heavy tray by your side is near impossible. Plus you will end up slamming into people (which can be justified at times.)
  • People will try to add glasses to your tray. Keeping it balanced over your head will prevent this. Your tray is like a game of Jenga: perfectly poised, balanced and only fun if  drink is involved.

Add to your collection and go wild. Stack them; Place them side to side. The fun to be had is endless!

The will to live

Not a physical tool but just as important. You are going to need this. The shifts are long and boring and everyone around you is unbearable, but try to look at the bigger picture. Remember, you too are an obnoxious idiot when you are out. Remember, you won’t be doing this for long. Remember, that you probably will have to wait in McDonald’s for an hour with the same people after your shift as the first bus home hasn’t started yet. Remember, even with the extra shifts, you still can’t afford a taxi to the suburbs.

Becoming a  struggle? Try these games during your next shift to kill some time.

  • The 60 second game: When doing a lap around the club keep an eye on the clock. Feel the momentary satisfaction when you start a lap on the minute and get back to the same spot exactly a minute later. Challenging and there are many factors that could hold you up. Example: Guy comes up and asks you where the nearest cash machine is. You have ten seconds to spare. What do you do? Personally, I would ignore him. I have better things to do such as  beating my personal best. Girl asks the same question? Take as long as you need.
  • Guess the next song game: A stab in the dark but since the club only plays the same four songs, your chances for success is reasonably high.
  • The cock block game: Occasionally, girls will talk to you to escape the clutches of the rapey guy on the dance floor. You’re sober and he’s an asshole. Make her laugh, and watch him stress. Leave before he beats you up. Challenging but dangerous.

If you are heading over to Australia on a working visa my advice to you is to not be too picky. Take what comes your way and have fun with it. An experience – good or bad – is an experience none the less, to which you’ll learn from regard less. If you are willing to work all night and looking for a short term cash fix, glass collecting is at least an option, that – given the right club – could pay a decent wage.

Enjoyed this article? Then please punch the share button!


Cold Slow Smoked Ham

2012-12-24 11.56.41

Twenty Kilometers East of Ravensburg in the scenic region of Baden-Württemberg, (say that three times fast…) South Germany, lies the small town of Wolfegg: known for its vintage car museum, castle and now (at least in my eyes) it’s slow smoked ham.

Georg Klawitter, (that’s ‘George’ to you and I) has been living and working in the region his whole life.When not at 2012-12-24 11.57.53his day job, you will likely find Georg in and around the house, working away on one of his many projects. A skilled carpenter in his spare time, he shows me around his work shop which is dressed with bundles of wood, bound with chunks of metal and peppered with layers of saw dust. However it is the towering cabinet outside of the work shop that catches my attention:

“There’s about 50kg of ham in there – just shy of 200 euros worth.” claims Georg, as he ushers me to the cabinet and unlocks the door – an expensive piece of equipment in its own right. I soon find out it isn’t a cabinet at all. It’s a smoker.

Smoke rises, and escapes through the top, you see?” explains Georg proudly, as he becomes animated over his new project and entertains my interest.

As Georg pries open the door, smoke fails to bellow out, to my surprise, instead continuing its silky path to the top of the smoker, funneling out through the top:

“With cold smoke, liquid is forced out of the meat, producing more tender ham.” explains Georg.

2012-12-24 11.49.19It’s a hefty chunk of metal around three feet deep and six-foot high, allowing for the smoke to have room to rise and time to cool down. The smell is amazing: a dense woody aroma; The mouth-watering looking layers of hanging ham looks good enough to eat, but it’s not. In fact, the ham is soaked in a good amount of water for 24 hours, coated in salt, garlic and herbs for three weeks and left to dry out before going anywhere near the smoker. Once in, the ham is carefully cared for throughout the smoking period, maintaining a cold 10 to 15 degrees throughout the process – which can take several days to a week or two depending on the cut of meat/the size.

Forever a community figure, Georg is smoking the ham for friends, family and neighbours to give out as christmas presents. Sensing my interest, I am given a taste and try to recall a time where I had tasted better – heavenly. Unlike the smoking process, the sensation is instant as the intensity of the salt and the smoke come together sharply to form an explosion of flavour.

Conversation is limited between us due to my even more limited German, so rather than continue to struggle, I leave Georg to get on with his work as he wisely closes the smoker door to keep me out and I head inside for coffee.

I should try that” I think to myself, before remembering that I can’t even put a shelf up properly. “Leave it to the experts I guess… Besides, smoking is bad for your health.”

2012-12-24 11.55.36 2012-12-24 11.55.30 2012-12-24 11.49.19 2012-12-24 11.55.08 2012-12-24 11.49.31

2012-12-24 11.51.29


For All The Cows – An update.

Hey folks. I hope all is well? It’s been a while since my last update so I thought I’d let you in on what’s been happening.

I’m not going to lie. I’m definitely suffering from the blues and in many ways I have been for a few weeks now. But instead of letting it continue to get me down and bore you all to death with it, I think the solution is to look forward to the future don’t you think? I don’t need to put you through reading about my personal misery again (I don’t have it bad over here but in context with my own existence and mindset and how I feel from day-to-day is relative to how I live my life and a big factor to how I act around myself more so than others.)

What I will say though is that I do miss my friends and family from back home and I am looking forward to seeing you all soon.

Now then.

Onwards in some easy digestible pieces…

What exactly am I up to?

Well as most of you probably know, if only by spying  instead of talking to me,( isn’t the internet awesome? Soon we won’t even  need ‘friends’. There will be an app full of them ready to download) I live and work in Germany with my girlfriend and have been here close to a year now. It’s been fine (for lack of a better word) in that we get on great, the town is charming and I have little worries here.

Am I ready to leave? Yes. A long time ago.

It’s nothing personal. I actually really like it here. The problem lies in my agenda.

Once again I am doing the same shit but in a different country and I feel – no I know – I could do so much more. I’m slightly disappointed with myself this time around. I get up, I piss around, I smoke too many cigarettes and drink coffee and then I go to work. Rinse and repeat everyday. Now I must state, this is entirely my fault. I haven’t made the effort even in getting close to new friends. From day one I knew I’d be leaving again. I didn’t have that knowledge on my last trip, so I guess I never really got off the ground here. I’m happy with my relationship with Petra but I’m not happy with my relationship with Germany. Once again – it’s nothing personal, it’s just not the right time for me to be here. If I have to work in a kitchen or a restaurant floor for one more year of my life, I’m going to crack up. And as grateful as I am to be in a job that treats me well, I’m going through groundhog day and a continuous loop of misery and boredom. I feel like im in a prison. And for anyone that knows me well – I need to be pacing a much bigger cell.

Would I come back to Germany to live? Yes. In a heart beat.

Can I be here any longer at the time being? No. Sadly not.

See how easy it is to rant? Moving on…

So –  what’s the plans?

Well over the past few months whilst Petra has been studying, I’ve been planning and booking a round the world trip for us both. That’s been keeping me fairly busy as there is more to in than you might imagine. Surprisingly – I sparked  into life doing this and I actually really enjoyed it. I got a travel agent to book all of my first trip as If I was left to my own devices, I would have ended up that famous creek with not only a missing paddle, but probably a whole new asshole handed to me in every major city. I was clueless and chose to adopt other people who knew what the hell they were doing. However this time round, I have a bit of knowledge and experience and without wanting to jinx the whole thing, I think I did a fairly good job of organising everything. Here’s the trip in a bit of detail if you want to stalk me or smuggle a package of narcotics in my backpack:

  • Sep 23rd – Edinburgh.
  • Sep 24th – Oct 3rd – Aberdeen.
  • 2 weeks – New York/Philadelphia/Boston.
  • 10 days – LA/San Francisco.
  • 1 month – Australia.
  • 2 weeks – Thailand.
  • 6 weeks – Borneo.
  • Singapore to London.
  • Arrive home February 3rd and shortly after move to Edinburgh.

On my return?

We (both Petra and I) are moving to Edinburgh. She want’s to gain work experience abroad and I want to officially get my shit together, so where better to do it than the Capital?  We did think about London but Edinburgh seems less daunting for a couple getting their own place, looking for new work and putting their feet on the ground for a year or two. For different reasons – Aberdeen is out of the question.

The plan? I want to study and only work part-time for a while. Although I’ve been fortunate enough to do some travel and working full-time has gotten me there, after 8 years of it I’m officially done. I want to look towards the future and it’s not easy to see whilst flipping burgers and washing dishes. What I want to do is a different question all together. I’m really not sure. But I enjoy writing and although I am naive and relatively in the dark with what I could possibly do as a career with it, I want to at least get an education first. So one step at a time. Reading more books would be a start…

And with the writing?

I’m happy to say that I’m getting there and more importantly – interested and enjoying it. As a board poster on gapyear.com, I decided that potentially I had more to give to the site than just being a poster. I sent in a couple of my entries from here as example pieces, in hope that my style could have a place for the site. The editor praised my writing  and asked me to produce an article on my time in Germany (Which is done and dusted by the way and I will put it up at a later date). It was unpaid however in return I got my work edited by a professional and critiqued. And of course – it’s all experience that I will need to get going in the right direction. I’m happy to say that since then I have produced a further article and have written a complete country guide to Germany, to which you can read here.

So onwards and upwards. Watch this space. There will be more pieces coming in the future. And as much as I seem to love writing about myself, I’m looking to step away from that and get serious about producing real work. Besides. What else is there really to know about me? And apart from being entertained by my ramblings once in a while, does anyone really care? Writing these has always been for my own benefit. However now it’s came round full circle and I’m looking to benefit in a whole different way.

A career.

Any advice?

So folks this is my 99th entry, which if you think about it – isn’t really that many. But in saying that I’m pleased I’m still writing and even more so that I plan on continuing. I love doing this and for as passionate as I am about certain things, nothing really ever sticks with me. I’m glad I do this and enjoy doing it. I will continue. And I sincerely hope that 5 years from now – I’m stuck good and well.

I’m thinking about what I might do for my 100th entry. Perhaps I’ll have a  go at impressing you with something a bit different. We shall see.

Also expect some sort of travel blog to come out of my next trip. I don’t see why not. That’s a no brainer.

That’ll do it for now.

I will see some of you in a few weeks.

Untill then – take it easy and all the best.

Darren.


The First: Job In Germany – ‘la Cucina’

“Guten Morgen…..erm……I was wondering if you require anyone for in the kitchen?”

The answer to this question was met with either confusion,rejection or just plain rudeness. Looking for a job is always a chore no matter which country you are in. I had doubts about hitting the Italian restaurant literally ten steps from my front door. Why? Well its ten steps from my front door and whatever I may end up doing in my own nest (possibly shitting) I didn’t want it on my doorstep. However after no luck in other places I didn’t see the harm in it. At least I wouldn’t have it on my conscience that I didn’t even try there.

I knocked back a coffee,shoved on my nicest clothes and put on my glasses. I headed across and entered with an extremely fake confidence.

“Hallo. I have just moved in across the street from Scotland and wondering if there was any work in the kitchen available?”

I was greeted by two Italian men who didn’t speak English very well.

“What do you do? What do you want?” replied the older of the two men.

“Well I am looking for work….erm…….Kuchen oder……..ermm…..” I said.

“I am the chef! I do the cooking” he replied. He had a half-hearted scan through my CV with a sense of formality.

“Ahhhhhh Pappagallos! That is us. Italian” he said.

“Ermm…..great!…..so i’ve just moved in across the street and……”

I got cut off.

“Ok.OK. Tomorrow you………emm………..Wednesday……..at emmm……halb sieben…..no no no!…..halb sechs…..you come here….and I see you……..I see you and if I like…..you work……but ehhhhhhhhhh here………….very good food.It is mine.I am the chef! You no the chef.You come,I see…..and………ok?”

I bit his hand off.

“Of course! tomorrow half five. Cool. No problem.Your name? Massimo.Great. I will wear?………………White. Ok danke. Tomorrow. See you then!”

As easy as that. After only two minutes of leaving the house I got something. I was happy. I hate looking for work and always feel like im asking people to sell me heroin or donate an organ for my dying child. I just never have an air of confidence and always feel like I sound desperate. I always seem to generate an air of interest though and ten to land on my feet one way or another.

Monday came. I bought a white polo from some expensive store,somehow missing ‘H & M’s’ around the corner. I had already brought over chef trousers from back home and a pair of old trainers.Which by the way never used to be old. My Adidas Forest Hills 72’s are the best pair of trainers I’ve ever bought. Perfect for all occasions and even after their prime are the best pair of flat football shoes I’ve ever had,and are still doing my well three years on.

I was ready to go and left the house early to show I was keen. As I left I bumped into Massimo carrying a box of fruit and veg.

“Ahhhhhh Darren! Good good.Emmm…..tonight is eh…..not so good…….no busy…..tommorow you come?”

Tomorrow was no good and neither was the following days. I had plans to go to Munich. I managed to barter for Monday and we had the same chat as we did before. I was pretty annoyed but I totally understood. The way of the industry is if you aren’t busy,then there isn’t much reason for you to be there. However I would have liked to of at least seen the kitchen and had a chat just to reaffirm my willingness to work.However – that didn’t happen and I went to Munich hoping on Monday being a banker.I left thinking if Wednesday wasn’t busy – then how will Monday be?

As I left the house on the Monday a spot of deja vu came along. I bumped into Massimo again carrying a box of fruit and veg.

“What do you want? You tell me” he said.

I gave him the same spiel as I did the following days. He  ushered me into the kitchen to drop off the box. We then went and bought more as he explained just how good these vegetables was and how good a chef he was.

Massimo lived up to the Italian stereotype but not in a bad way. He was cocky,confident –  full of charisma and hand gestures but very likeable.He was very confusing and contradicting with the information he was giving me. I did my best to follow his instructions but as his English was pretty bad and as was my German, I could see problems ahead. What I did know is that if I worked hard and did what I was told,I would be looked after.

“Soooooooo……….(he usually starts a sentence with this) I am the chef and you no. Ok? And emmm……you must respect me. I no want you to blah blah blah (he used a comical face and acted out me talking too much with his hands). You work…..ok…I will like….you no? Then I no need you. Ok? My food is the best in konstanz.Everything you see (he picks up a tomato) fresh.Everything! Fresh. Ok? Ok. Soooooooooooooo…..”

The first job he got me doing was moulding pizza dough into perfect balls. I didn’t have the  heart to tell him I’d be absolutely useless at this and he would be quicker doing it himself. I gave it my best shot. I thought I was doing pretty well untill I was interrupted by his brother (the other Italian on my first visit). He was a taller man with a constant smile upon his face and again – full of character. I had seen him everyday since being in Konstanz.He is always outside the restaurant smoking and since I came in for the job initially – always gave me a wave or a smile.

“Awwwwwwww no….You no make pizza the Italian way!” he laughed in a friendly manner.

He finished my batch with amazing flare and I appreciated the show and tell, as Massimo just left me to my devices presuming I was Gordon Ramsey.

The day went without a hitch.Most of it was spent doing dishes but Massimo showed me a few things. He didn’t ask me anything. He was more eager to see if I could do the job or not. I could tell he didn’t want to waste his time. I was worried I was slightly over my head but as the day went on I felt comfortable. I liked him.And that helps a lot.

As I was leaving his brother (whose name still escapes me) came up to me with a spring in his step. His English was very limited.

“My frau…ehhh….my wife…..she ehhh…..lost.You know? (I didn’t. I imagined his wife wandering around a dark forest looking for somewhere to make camp) She…..season six? She likes…..She needs lost. You see?Can you?……Do you?…….emm……”

“Ahhhh you would like me to get lost season six for you?” I said.

It was no problem.

“YES! Fablisimo!Thank you so much!” He said as he gave me a firm handshake and a packet of cigarettes for my troubles.

Massimo wanted me back the next day. He wanted another look at me. I didn’t mind the job. I feel ok in the kitchen. However it’s gotten to a stage with me that I know I could do something else and I desperately do. But with the language barrier I know I had to stick to what I know in order to get by. If it meant being a scrubber for another year then so be it. Afterall money is money – and untill I sort my shit out – it will have to do.

The following shift came and went and it and had the same theme as before.

‘You respect me – and I will respect you’. No bother. Even if I wanted to tell him to fuck himself I wouldn’t know the words too in German or Italian. I’ll just do what I’m told then. There was one cracker of a conversation I must share though that still has me chuckling to this day.Massimo had just finished telling me that he liked me and liked my work. I acknowledged the compliment and said thank you. He responded with a tirade of “I don’t give you compliments! I don’t tell you nice things ok? I speak you listen. No chat!”

Ok man. Thanks for kind words.

I’ve now completed my first week of work at ‘La Cucina’. It’s fine.The brother got his series of lost and i got another packet of ciggerettes for my effort. The only problem I have is it will only be part-time in the meantime but Massimo has already said that he will “see what I do” when it comes to extra hours. He already had me helping his wife out cleaning rooms in the hotel (he owns the restaurant and the hotel) By the way that was soul destroying.I make an ugly maid.Nothing like the hot Latinos you see on porn hub.On Saturday night he asked me if I liked it there. If he had asked me if I could put up with it, then I could have given him an honest answer but as it was I said “yes – of course”. He replied with “Well – i like your work. I see a future here for you. You are now apart of the family. Anything you need – we are your family now”

I thought that was very nice of him to say and I very much appreciated it. So as it stands I’ve went from a family run Italian restaurant back home to a family run Italian restaurant in Germany. Not the way to escape. But at least i feel comfortable in my surroundings in a short space of time which counts for a big part in moving to a new Country.

The ball continues to roll – albeit – in the same direction.