Or… Life, Waiting to Happen On the Piccadilly platform at South Kensington, I wondered. Which work is more meaningless? a. The (nearly) blank poster box, pictured here. b. The person whose job it is to make a sign that says “Awaiting Posters”? This is not to say that meaningless work is useless work. Ironing is…
Category: London
Zen and the Art of Temping
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If you are wondering what a little slice of hell is, it’s this: being in the office, as a temp, and having the person you are replacing show up, unannounced. Then having her say: May I have a hanger please? as she stares at your coat on the rack with disdain. Then having her say:…
Eat Your Greens!
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So you are tired of your tree? Sick of all the WATERING? All the pouring of water, the dampening of soil, and the decreasing of naturally dry dirt surface area bringing you down? Are you just too poncy and lazy to water your plants, and nothing else? Getting carpral tunnel from lifting a water jug…
The Warrington-Ramsay Waltz
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Or… Living the Limbo Loco in W9 I still work at The Warrington Hotel, a couple days a week. So naturally friends and neighbours and locals ask, confidingly, what my new boss, Gordon Ramsay is up to. Life is conjecture, really. Most of it. After John Brandon stood up at his leaving drinks that October…
Karaoke King
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Colin Phillips, Karaoke King. K-Box, Cranbourne Mansions Private Karaoke Room The Berlin Room! Leiceister Square Saturday Night Colin did Sinatra and ABBA proud, and sang along with gusto. Maybe it was the Tsingo Taos talking. Or the influence of our Chinese friends we were with. Or maybe Colin really IS the next American Idol. Anyway,…
Cubicle Days
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Seems like just yesterday I was that awkward, gawky new girl in the office. Now, Temp-days are ending. What can I do, to fill my time now? No more hole punch cocktails. No more stapler wars. No more chair spin competitions. No more “ARRARHCCHHGH!” from the copier room, as the feeder jams again. No more…
Gordon Ramsay Eats the Warrington
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…or The Emperor’s New PubBonfire weekend has fizzled out with word that our new man about the Vale, Gordon Ramsay, was skulking about the bar Saturday evening. Apparently, he’s been getting an earful from the locals, who despite being British, aren’t too shy to tug sweet ol’ Gordo by the ear and fill his canals…
Bonfire Night
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We stood at least 15, maybe 20 feet away from the flames. Yet it flung heat at us without trying. Hot on our faces, on the leather of our coats, on the woven threads in our blue jeans. The rubber in our shoes braced itself, ready in case it were forced, by the heat, to…
London Morning Light
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I leave for work at nearly 8 a.m. The light is falling lower and lower on the horizon. It lives below the equator now. My shadow stretches long and tall behind me. I cannot see, but I don’t care. The sun is on my face and I would rather be nowhere. The only thing, really,…
Me vs. the Minutes
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I’m supposed to be typing up minutes. But I’m not. As you can see. Big round table. Men in suits… Ties everywhere. Nice cup of tea, getting cold. Mumble mumble. Scratch on pad. Quote: “MUMBLE. MUMBLE.” Now I’m at my desk and now I have to type up MINUTES. Minutes are the Brussel sprouts of…
Lovely Carter Lane
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If I hadn’t taken the temp job at the Kuwait Investment Office, I am quite sure I would never have found Carter Lane. Lovely, narrow, winding Carter Lane, which is most certainly a ghost of itself on the weekend, when the City empties. But this City of London lane, stretching from the south side of…
How to be a Proper Pubman
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This is John. For 25 odd years, John has been doing just what you see here… serving pints at the Warrington Hotel. It isn’t an easy thing, to be a landlord. Sure, on the surface, it seems like a cakewalk. Hire a few Aussies, order barrels of bitter, decide between black or yellow shirts, and…
My Run in Hyde Park
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2006 Women’s HydroActive Challenge September 3rd London’s Hyde Park Finish Time: 40 minutes 31 seconds The HydroActive Challenge 5K is a race for women and there were woman all around me. But even so, I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Almost everyone there was running for some charity or other, so the other runners…
My Left Slipper
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On Thursday, we were just fooling around in the bedroom before bed. You know. The way people do. I never wanted this. I never wanted to become so attached to– Well, anyway. I tossed off my slippers. One foot, two foot. Barefoot, blue foot. Like a Dr. Suess rhyme. I tossed them away. It’s Wednesday…
Notting Hill Carnival: The Corporate Mob
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We went for our third Notting Hill Carnival yesterday. Didn’t plan to, just like we didn’t plan to be in the city for the bank holiday weekend. But it has always been the right idea in the end. Sarah and Tom planned the day for us and I suddenly remembered what it was like to…
