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Cheers for the tips Gamble! I’m
Going to try and become a waiter there as I assume that will give me more spare time to mingle and watch the races when the times right rather than being stuck behind a dingy bar next to William hill all dayBen will be running the joint in the blink of an eye.
The fella is a go-getter – why, he’s already gone and got!
Well done, Ben – TRF is proud of you, I can sense it.
I am "The Horse Racing Punter" on Facebook
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It's the "Millwall FC" of Point broadcasts: "No One Likes Us - We Don't Care"Thanks Ian
I’ll make sure to sort out a private TRF box for us once I get the CEO gig, Boxing Day p!ss up for us!!We’ll be camped out overnight in the queue with our sleeping bags for THAT!
I am "The Horse Racing Punter" on Facebook
https://mobile.twitter.com/Ian_Davies_
https://www.facebook.com/ThePointtoPointNHandFlatracingpunter/
It's the "Millwall FC" of Point broadcasts: "No One Likes Us - We Don't Care"Well Ben shame you couldn’t shift your enthusiasm back in time 50 years, when gamble was jobbing it in the Grosvenor House Park Lane, as a banqueting porter. Sean Connery had a permanent room at the hotel, some suggested for his personal enjoyment. I for one didn’t give Bond the benefit of doubt – he certainly wasn’t practicing his lines, or maybe in reverse – ” Shaken not stirred ”
As for the waiters back then, even the hardworking managers were jealous of them. You had to know someone to get to be a waiter – they were a closed shop fraternity and were getting £100 a table in tips ( untaxed back then – well it was cash, and 100 was several weeks wages ) and they would do three or four tables a night. One told me he had bought four houses from his tips alone – one for himself and his wife, the other three for his children. I went green and the thing that got me most was they were in a permanent state of incincerity smiling like Cheshires, and I, glum faced and earnest picking up a pittance for clearing up the rich boys’ mess. Bloody clicks !Well Ben you seem earnest so good luck securing maybe not a sinecure but a nice hand shake or two !
Well played Ben, pleased for you.
An underappreciated job among many, although not in this parish I’m sure. Part of the big machine that makes a day at the races happen.
Nice tale Gamble! I’d be a happy chap if I was taking home what those waiters were! Seems like it’s incredibly hard to earn proper money doing any sort of waiting or barwork etc job these days, no wonder people in this country are so skint, the hours you have to work in these jobs to make it pay, after you’ve paid your rent & bills I can imagine the vast majority of people don’t have a chance to put anything aside to save for a house or flat of their own. Can barely afford a stag-do in Newcastle ffs lol let alone a proper holiday.
The yoof Ben, if you don’t mind me using that expression have it particularly tough today.
I took a part time job for the OPCS ( census & surveys ) early seveties, and was working in Snettisham Norfolk with the two Witts. Mr Witt was a bus driver – largish tummy – and when he got home he would sit in a chair and immediately snooze off which made me, the jack in the box, intensely envious. Mrs Witt was a seamstress who once told me they had only afforded their nice semi detached bungalow by skrimping and by staying out of the pub all their lives together – 25 long ones. I did think although an adequate seamstress, she could have done with a yarn or two.
Anyway I got home one evening and Mrs Witt told me she was walking around the village that afternoon collecting a bit of shopping, when one of her friends pointed at a house in the street. She said 2 up 2 down and needs some TLC – price 100 pounds. In my regular job the year before I was earning £12 a week. I thought to myself I could have bought that back then but then the thought occurred; what on earth would I do with a house. I liked Norfolk very much back then.The Queen was oft times there, not in her counting house but enjoying tine with her favourite son, Andrew.“I was there quite alone living a simple life, with my favourite, out of yarn, Witts.
Sounds like a plot for Withnail % I, Mr Grant is that you?
I have a similar story, worked in a school about 10 years ago and one of the older teachers there said “you see that row of houses on the green, my grandfather built those and sold them for £10,000 each”, the houses are worth about £1.5million now, insane.
Having been made redundant when down in Oxfordshire back in 2006 I applied for a job at Ascot Racecourse in the hospitality department, a job description stating ‘racing knowledge desirable’. I didn’t get an interview but it was heartening to get a personal letter from Ascot praising the quality of my application and wishing me good luck in my job search. Not much in the grand scheme of things but it did my self esteem no end of good at a difficult time.
I’ll make sure to sort out a private TRF box for us once I get the CEO gig, Boxing Day p!ss up for us!!
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