Know Your Place, Harlot!

New chef is a muslim. Mine Host barely takes any notice of this. As a believer in religious freedom (specifically Mine Host's freedom from ALL religions ALL of the time) Mine Host cares not which carved idols/ethereal spirits his staff pay homage to.

Muslim staff tend to be polite, diligent, ethical and "bat for the team". This one however is of a breed previously not encountered by Mine Host. He is Bangladeshi. Mine Host has long experience only with Indian, Pakistani, homegrown and Turkish muslims (as staff).

This Bangladeshi has a hard-core attitude toward female humans that is straight out of a Saudi Mosque. Sheikh Hillbilly himself in Sydney wouldn't exceed this level of mysogyny.

For the Bangladeshi isn't rude to women, he just plain acts as if they don't exist. Operating with a female kitchenhand (refusal to recognise women doesn't extend to forgoing the fruits of all the mundane work they do) he walks around as if she does not exist.

No matter how heavily encumbered, she must jump out of the way, as he acts like a shunting railway locomotive. Either she moves, or he will roughly shoulder her aside.

Matters continued as so for a few days, until word reached Mine Host.

Mine Host noted the following day's roster had a different kitchen hand, also female, dark skinned and a migrant.

Specifically, a Maori lady from New Zealand.

Neither Mine Host nor anybody else was present when New Chef gave her the inevitable evil glare and (it would have been only an attempted) rough shove out of the way.

New Chef subsequently presented with an unspecified injury of sufficient severity to prevent him from working for a few days, claiming it as a "gym injury" and most anxious that Mine Host not think the injury happened at work.

New Chef is now gracious and polite to ALL females, ALL of the time, and defers readily to their advice on anything and everything. At work in the kitchen, he is almost bowing to any and all kitchenhands, and most visibly does not go anywhere near them nor hamper them in any way as they go about their duties.

On the House! (by law)

A customer knocks off $90 from the Wayside Tavern when the staff are not looking, swifly exiting the premises.

The theft is captured in high resolution digital video format by the camera surveillance system.

The customer denies the offence.

The customer/offender is then advised to pay the $90 to avoid police involvement.

A month passes, no payment is made. Police are called.

The offender then writes a letter (written by a solicitor) admitting nothing, offering to pay $90 as a "goodwill gesture" on the condition Mine Host withdraws the complaint to Police.

$90 is the only currency acceptable to Mine Host. The letter is ignored.

In court the offender pleads guilty, but says he has no memory of the incident as he was "too drunk to know what was happening"

(This contrasts with the video evidence, where he is shown consuming Two glasses of beer in Two hours, reading the newspaper, then furtively glancing left/right before committing the offence.)

The Magistrate imposes a fine of $400.

The court handled the debt to society, but ignored the debt to the Wayside Tavern.

Until the $90 is paid, the offender will be refused admission, for eternity if need be.

The average citizen will try to tell you that Magistrates have brains, an assertation not supported by decisions such as the one above.

*Oink*Oink*

People not turning up to work is the bane of the hospitality industry.

People not turning up to work and blithely expecting to keep their job is one of the amusing anomalies of the hospitality industry.

Actual reasons for not turning up to work:
Too lazy to get out of bed,
Too drunk,
Had a party to go to instead,
Took lots of drugs and didn't wake up in time,
etc etc etc.

Reason given to the boss for not turning up to work: "Sick".

The day after blowing a shift, they all take action to retain their job. Thus Mine Host has quite a collection of "medical certificates" (issued by a tame doctor the day after the no-show for work) stating "an unspecified medical condition"

For staff who live on the job this is more difficult. There are credibility issues if one spends the day exhibiting boisterousness in a hale and hearty manner at home, whilst simultaneously claiming to be too ill to make it downstairs to for work.

The husband of a couple living and working in the pub, a big hearty chap, (Three weeks into the job and fast approaching his "use-by" date - even more faster now) failed to front for work yesterday.

It was as if he had been abducted by aliens, he was absent, his wife knew nothing (or may have known something as some people, and she is one, are inarticulate to the point where they are incapable of giving a straight answer to anything, even if they want to)

Today he appears (having thought first to pop into the handiest GP's surgery) brandishing a medical certificate stating "an unspecified medical condition".

Mine Host, who knows very well when someone is too ill to work, eyeballs him and says "Big strong man like you, bouncing up & down the stairs yesterday and this morning, too crook to work - in a pig's eye!"

Straight-faced and without a hint of guile, he states "I thought I might've had Swine Flu, played it safe & checked"

You couldn't make up stuff like this!

This time next week he won't be on the payroll.

Queen's Birthday

Mine Host breaks with the protocol of this blog & tells a tale that did not happen to him in person:

In 1954 Mine Host's father was in the Army & tasked with Royal Guard duty in Sydney, for the occassion of the Royal visit.

Each day they would follow exactly the same routine:

At 2am they were marched into position along a parade route. They stood in position from 2am, at attention, lining the route until mid-morning/midday/early afternoon when Her Majesty passed by.

Shortly after the motorcade conveying Her Majesty had passed they were dismissed by an officer & were then on leave until 2am the following day. (use one's own imagination to fill in the details of this daily leave)

The first day nobody knew what to expect, so the troopers were armed with a .303, bayonet and Three rounds each, to handle any "attack that may be launched upon Her Majesty".

It was patently obvious the first day that by far the greatest risk Her Majesty faced was being swamped by enthusiastic loyal crowds.

Thus the second & subsequent days the .303 and bayonet remained in the armoury. Instead, dressed in full webbing only, each trooper gripped the belt of the trooper to either side, forming what was (hopefully) an unbreakable khaki chain, in an attempt to keep the adoring crowd from crushing Her Majesty & party.

It is, It was, It holds, It held

No stranger to making statements to police, Mine Host is able to rattle off a statement verbatim, without any need for said statement to be moulded into format by the officer taking the statement.

The police officer taking the statement has only to type fast enough to keep up. This rarely happens. Despite now being able to type, modern police are no faster than the pre-historic police who typed two-fingered.

Recently when making a statement, Mine Host was forced to make more than the usual amount of corrections to his statement.

Mine Host at first did not grasp the problem:
The Constable did not understand the difference between past and present tense. The statement was about an event that happened a considerable time ago, in a business no longer operating, in a premises since demolished.

Thus the statement must be in past tense.

The officer persistently typed the statement in present tense. Mine Host told the Constable that being as today nothing is the same as it was at the time of the event, the statement must be in "past tense".

.....Blank look.....

Oh no! The Constable doesn't even know what "tense" means.

Mine Host gingerly went through the statement correcting tense.

The Constable's spelling was unreliable unless the word was phonetic, reverting in several instances to asking Mine Host to spell the words he was dictating.

One of the qualifications required to be sworn in as an officer in the Queensland Police is to have obtained a university degree.

Mine Host is tending to believe this to be a "claytons" degree, and not one requiring proficiency in the English language.

Yet Mine Host is expected to believe that this person, with such pitiful grasp of their native language, is able to grasp the law.

(Mine Host does not believe that Constables have much of a grasp of the law, or even much grasp of what their job is supposed to be, experience has taught him this)

Dry Exercise

An army camp was on the edge of town, the base for a three-week exercise.

Military Police, equipped with no-nonsense manner and a brutal fish-eyed stare had visited the Wayside Tavern to inform that before, during, and after the exercise no soldiers would be patronising any pubs, breaches of this would be "very serious" for any soldiers who breached this.

At all hours of the day & night various Landrovers and Unimogs drove past the Wayside Tavern, the longing glances of the occupants almost painful to observe.

Three weeks without alcohol, as sacrifices go this isn't much of a hardship.

On a morning like any other, about 8am a landrover rushed into the yard of the Wayside Tavern.

Leaving the engine running, Three Private soldiers alighted, dashed inside fronting the bar in the manner of young children.

"Three VB's please" They beamed.

Ruefully Mine Host explained that it was a very serious offence to sell or supply liquor before trading hours.

Their faces fell. Their risk was great. Having parked in the yard & entered the pub meant their penalty would be just as severe.

Mine Host poured Three schooner sized glasses, placed the glasses on the bar, turned away, still explaining that he could not sell, or supply liquor at that time of day, & besides he was "too busy cleaning & testing the beer lines".

Coins clinking into the Blind Dog was the only sound.

Turning around Mine Host noted that the soldiers were gone and the schooner glasses were empty.

An Army Landrover catapaulted itself from the Hotel yard onto the safety of the street,
Mine Host put the schooner glasses into the dishwasher,
The clock ticked 8am.

Mine Host had seen nothing, sold nothing, supplied nothing.

A bit hot under the collar (postscript to the previous post)

Outside the courtroom, but in the courthouse, the "Financial Controller" of Scam Group Pty Ltd engaged Mine Host in a spot of conversation. He seemed to be of the (erronous) belief that Mine Host was knocked into line by the decision of the Magistrate & was now "seeing sense".

It became clear within about half a second that Mine Host did not believe there had been either a "full" or "fair" hearing in the court. (There often isn't if a Magistrate is involved)

The opening statement of the besuited smart-alec didn't help. "You realise we'll close your account now, standard procedure with anyone who has to be taken to court to own up to their obligations to us"

Mine Host pointed out succinctly that the disputed goods had just turned up unsolicited, that an account (or lack of) had not bothered "you fellers" much at the time the disputed goods were dispatched, that they need not think that court was their idea, as Mine Host would have gladly brought a case against them (in his own town).

This last sentence was quite a shock, & must have been delivered by Mine Host with the "ring of truth" to it, as the besuited spreadsheet jockey was clearly (until that moment) of the belief that Mine Host had been dragged unwillingly into court by Scam Group Pty Ltd.

Mine Host went on to question why he would ever want an account with people who operate in a manner as underhanded as the Scam Group Pty Ltd.

The "Financial Controller" (whatever that is) was quite enraged at this remark, and was well on the way to shaping up to Mine Host. He angrily retorted to Mine Host his displeasure that Mine Host would have even the remotest grounds for questioning either the integrity of Scam Group Pty Ltd, or the decision of the court.

The (extremely fat & toad eyed) telephonist woman tugged at the arm of her boss, quietly urging him to lay off a bit...

.....for she was the one who had made the calls & handled the matter, and she knew very well that no matter what the official position of Scam Group Pty Ltd, that Mine Host was 100% correct in everything he said, and that it would be wise to quit while they were ahead.

It may also have been obvious from Mine Host's eager expression that Mine Host was not averse to the idea of the besuited one taking a swing at him within the walls of the courthouse.

Allowing the rube you have just done over an avenue to physically even the score is most unwise, especially when the rube's juices are still flowing from a few minutes before having been on the business end of a blatantly hometown decision by a tame Magistrate.