Validation At Last

This last few weeks have been tough. Hell the last few months have.

But the last few weeks I’d almost given up, until that is I decided to stand for it No More. If anyone is familiar with Doctor Who then you will recognise NO MORE in relation to ‘The War Doctor’ -John Hurts character from the 50th anniversary episode.

The man who would stand aside no more, the man that will stand up even though he would rather not fight. Trust me, I’d rather not fight. But…

Three things have stood out for me this week-

  1. Wednesday I discovered my bank account had been closed down. It was closed because it had been detected that I had been a ‘beneficiary of fraud’. This was obviously a shock and took some time to work out why. It transpires that I had been let down dramatically by a ‘friend’. A friend who’s bank card had stopped working, so when asked if he could transfer money into my account so I could draw out the cash for him it wasn’t a problem. Turns out the money that was transferred wasn’t from his account. I had indeed been a ‘beneficiary to fraud’, but I had not benefited. I’d already given him the cash. So the remaining cash in my account, cash which was most definitely mine, had been taken away from me. £75, and do you think I can get hold of this ‘friend’ now…
  2. A quiet Friday night at work. Which is frustrating enough when you are trying to push and do your best running a business. The sometimes unfortunate thing about this business is that it is a pub. A business selling alcohol, this almost always ends with a dick-head who has drunk to much. And this dick-head decided to aim his major dick-headedness at me. By the end of Friday night I had got home sick of fighting, sick of people and sick of having to stand up for myself.
  3. But then. But then you get one night of validation, one night that proves you are right, one night that you really needed to re-energise yourself. Last night, Saturday night, another night at work. Behind a bar, serving idiots. But this week was different, I was working alone. Normally not a problem because Saturday nights is probably the worst night of the week, in terms of the number of people (idiots) we get through the doors. It started pretty much as ever Saturday night does, nothing to really prepare for. But then. But then it happened. It started with four people, sometimes all you need is one good group. And they were good, I switched the music to suit, the drinks flowed… more people came in. Some more people came in, the music got louder, more drinks flowed.

I last night had become the main guy. I was the guy in charge of the party and the party was good. There I was, at the end of a real bad week, just when maybe my confidence was at an all time low, just when I could not be bothered any more, there I was, with no plan, no back up and no metaphorical weapons worth a damn, and I f**king rocked the place.

Last night, I on my own tripled a Saturday night take. My arguments all week had built up to this, built up to the validation I needed after my new catchphrase had become “I know what I’m doing”… right when I wasn’t confident that, I did indeed, know what I was doing.

Today I am relaxing, I got dressed once about an hour ago to go and get food. I then got undressed and got back into my pyjamas and dressing gown. My feet are up, my fire is on and I have cigarettes and red bull in hand. Today nothing will touch me. Today nothing will touch me. Oh and I’ve just realised the other £75 that hasn’t been paid to me by sh*t housemates in rent, but I didn’t include that in the list because today nothing will bring me down. I may have lost £150 in three days this week, but that is £150 worth paying to find the snakes in the grass. They can all keep every penny if it means staying the Hell away from me. A price worth paying entirely.

My moustache is also in full bloom and life is just better with a moustache. Thank you Movember.

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