4 Jobs, Part 2

y second job was manager's assistant in a hotel in Edinburgh. The hotel in question closed down years ago, but I won't name it or the directors, just in case...

Rumours about the directors abounded. One had allegedly been a gun-runner in the Carribbean and had survived a contract killing attempt organised by a double-crossed colleague. He was also a dentist, and was later investigated for unnecessarily giving people fillings then claiming the funding.

Another director was said to have been chased in his Rolls Royce by the police after failing a breathalyser test. Not managing to outrun them, even after driving into a field, he pulled a gun on his pursuers, and was jailed for five years. He was banned from driving as well, which was why I used to act as his chauffeur at times.

The third was less colourful and unable to stand up to the other two.

I have many stories about working there, but I shall restrict myself to one. Most of the income for the hotel came from its trendy bar thanks to a late drinks licence, and the mainly residential street became quite rowdy at closing time. Neighbours complained and the licence was revoked (or possibly an application for renewal was refused). In an attempt to regain lost custom, the directors decided to hold a teetotal disco, and asked me to be the barman. Music was a selection of songs on cassette.

Despite advertising, only a few people even ventured through the door, and all those who did left immediately upon being told there was no alcohol on sale. I spent several untroubled but paid evenings in that bar until facts were finally faced.

When March 1980 arrived at last, I handed in my notice in order to venture abroad.