I needed to find work and Sian decided to take a week to hang out with me before heading off to Indonesia. I was very glad of the company, however the mocking of my series of crappy jobs was unwelcome.
I first found employment in a large food court in Cairns Central shopping mall. It was hardly a rigorous recruitment process, I asked if they had work, they replied "when can you start?"
I should have taken a closer look at the food outlet before I so eagerly agreed, but funds were so low I would have considered selling my spleen. The following morning I arrived at "Bucking Bulls" for my first day of work. You know you are off to an auspicious start when after 20 minutes of work, you are sitting on a upturned crate in a cramped kitchen listing your known health conditions.
I don't know if it was the heat, the relentless slabs of beef staring up at me from the hot counter or the fact I haven't maintained a job in a long time, but I felt faint. I had worked for approximately 20 minutes when I had to return to the hostel and lie down. Sian thought it was hilarious.
I woke the following morning, thinking, hey I can do this, it's just short term. I headed to Bucking Bulls, donned the synthetic baseball shirt that made my hair stand skywards, the black Bucking Bulls cap that flattened my Einstein hair down and created a layer of grease. I was feeling and looking good.
The menu at Bucking Bulls largely consists of beef, pork, lamb (which to my vegetarian eyes all look the same), vegetables cooked to a soggy substance with no nutritional value, chips, wedges and gravy. The management frowned when I asked a customer, "would you like a heart bypass coupon with your Beef and gravy? Or perhaps a side of beef?"
Hard at work, got to sell that beef
Customers became frustrated watching me massacre a side of pork, and watched in disbelief as I then weighed the disheveled slice of meat, that after my efforts looked more like roadkill, before stuffing it in a bread roll and selling it at an extortionate amount. Bucking Bulls is a franchise, so every slab of cow has to be weighed. The company policy, when asked by an alarmed customer, "did you just weigh that?" is "yes, we at Bucking Bulls want you, the customer to receive a full and delightful portion of cattle", all with a vacuous tone and a wide gracious smile.
Welcome to Bucking Bulls, how about some cow?
I'm amazed by how popular the menu is with customers, even the baked potato with beef, peas, carrots, sour cream and gravy was a big seller! Actually I don't think I was meant to add sour cream, my mistake.
Let it be noted I lasted two whole days before I quit, but am still haunted by the experience, I feel faint when passing farm animals. Selling my spleen was a far better option than previously thought.
I soon found a job cleaning in a hostel for accommodation. Although I still needed paid work, I figured it was a start. Unfortunately I was working for a woman who has no concept of personal space and would give detailed instructions with her 60 a day fag breath blowing directly into my innocent pores. However this job did last slightly longer, I found the two hours of work a day fitted with my work ethic perfectly.
Sian and I had discovered the Woolshed at this point, a local bar with very cheap meal deals. For ten Australian dollars (today the cost of a Ford Galaxy in the States and a child's pocket money in the UK) we could gorge ourselves on a large and nutritious meal, dessert and a drink (not so nutritious but very tasty), in an agreeable setting. It became the highlight of our day, we would spend hours deciding on the evening meal, will it be fish of the day or filo parcels? Oh but what about the Greek salad?
Self-timer madness at the Woolshed
Sian was now considering extending her stay in Australia, the idea of leaving behind the Woolshed was so difficult to comprehend. Somehow she managed to board the flight to Bali.
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