Money man

The lads started calling me the money man after a keg party we had in the states when I was in charge of selling red cups for a fiver. Today I ran a similar enterprise.

Hours have been getting cut down majorly lately finishing at 5 and then 3 yesterday so when I was on wash up with another guy and over heard the floor manager talking of sending one of us home I needed somewhere to hide. Apparently the cadbury kiosk was the place to go if you wanted to be forgotten about so I switched with someone when they were going on break.

The cadbury kiosk was where I thought I was going to be for the whole two weeks and I was a bit pissed about not being put there before now but its probably the worst job. It's just you on your own selling the odd ice cream, no one to talk to, no idea of the time. I guess its pretty similar to being put in isolation in jail. I said to one of the girls on her way to the kitchen that its like being in solitary confinement. "What" she said. "Solitary confinement" I repeated. "That's a big word, I must write that down" I must write that down I thought.

Then there was a rush. A massive rush. Every day consists of a bunch of rushes which are followed by 20 people standing around chatting for an hour. Then another rush. This was a big one though and I suddenly had a queue all the way to the opposite wall. There are only 3 different ice-creams though and they all cost 3 pound so I was moving fast enough. But then the cash register ran out of paper and wouldn't open. Luckily the next few customers had change so I could keep the show on the road. There I was at the greatest show on earth in the greatest city on earth and I had the technical capabilities of a 5 year old at a lemonade stand, but with less change. My manager came after a while and got me to start keeping a record of what I was selling and left a 500 pound bag of change. Add that to the 300 quid I'd accumulated, apply less accurate record keeping and a less honest person would be having a field day.