Okay, so week 15 was pretty awesome. We had a group of younger guests that were all together, apart from our 71 year old cool dude Leo… who booked out the triple (and biggest) room in the chalet. No one had any ridiculous dietary requirements and everyone was relaxed and easy to please.
Obviously, we joined the group on a BNO in Soldeu on Monday night… where Gabs and I got gratuitously shit faced. As per usual.
I was so hungover when Tuesday hit that I was genuinely worried that my liver might pack in and that my body would soon give up on me. But you know, hearty shots of whisky tend to eradicate those worries. Later on, I hit the vodka pretty hard and stayed up into the wee hours with the guests playing the flip cup game.
It was during the flip cup game that one of the guests declared that I am ‘really Chinese.’ I mean, my very tiny eyes aren’t exactly a news flash. I have been known to flit around clubs seemingly with my eyes closed when actually I’m just smiling so hard that my eyes disappear.
I know this all sounds horribly racist… but I honestly don’t mean it to be. I just have very prominent Chinese eyes. The funny part is that I was actually stood next to someone with Chinese heritage… and he didn’t look anywhere near as Chinese as I did. I out-Chinesed the Chinese guy.
On to the big news… for those that never heard about it. I managed to miss work. And it wasn’t pretty.
My managers were SO pissed at me… and rightly too. But as much as I was devastated and disappointed in myself, I couldn’t help but laugh when I looked back over the messages between the Chalet girls that morning.
Let me fill you in. On Wednesday we had ski/boarded to Pas. As we usually do. And if you’ve been following this blog at all you will know that whenever I ventured to Pas, I got stuck.
This time was no different.
I remember telling Lucie that she was not allowed to leave at 4AM without me. Everybody knows that I HAVE to be the last (wo)man standing on a night out and often need physically dragging out of a club by my hair.
But she was so far gone (and I was such a douche) that I was inevitably left behind at 4AM with a questionable group of people.
The next thing I know I’m in a tiny single bedroom with two beds in it, two guys and me. And it’s 11.30AM. This room didn’t belong to any of us… And still to this day I do not know how any of us got in there. I scrambled around trying to get my snowboard boots back on (yep, I went dancing in full snowboarding garb) and I exited as quick as I could. Annoyingly with one guy following me… trying to reassure me things would be fine.
I definitely told him to fuck off more times than I can remember. I did NOT want to be stroked at this time in my life.
I was about to lose my job.
Luckily for me, I cried enough to prove that I was distraught over the whole thing and I was let off the hook pretty lightly. I had missed a breakfast shift but I did my best to make those hours up and be reliable once again.
The rest of the week passed by quickly and quietly. I knew I had to get my head down or have my ass sent home. As much as I missed my Mum and Dad I knew that being sacked was no way to end all the hard work I had put in so far.