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Prajna O'Hara's avatar

I loved this read so much happening: the fish; the phone call; the dog; the request for IUD. Captivating story.

Funny, I’m working on one as well.

I’m not sure if I can post my least favorite job. I’ll just say briefly my two brothers came to live with me while I was in university and I need to make extra money so I could help them out while they were in recovery.

I took a job bartending.

I had no idea that there would be dancers or what kind of dancers would be the entertainment.

One night, a dancer didn’t show up, the one who danced with a snake.

I was asked to take her place.

That was my last night.

Most of the jobs I had I really enjoyed .

🌹

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Oh my goodness that made me laugh, Prajna, being asked to stand in as a snake dancer!

Thanks for your wonderful comment.

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Karen Rand Anderson's avatar

Prajna this is priceless.. 🐍 🤣

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Prajna O'Hara's avatar

Okay Karen and Wendy. Is this conspiracy? You got me on this one it will be forthcoming.

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Prajna O'Hara's avatar

Thank you. I can see how that might be funny.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Probably more traumatising than funny at the time, I imagine? I can see why you didn’t stick with the job.

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Prajna O'Hara's avatar

Definitely scared me

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Wendy Varley's avatar

I’m no good with snakes generally, I’d have run a mile! Sorry if I laughed inappropriately – that’s such a surprising job to be asked to be a stand-in for. Definitely the most unusual so far.

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Prajna O'Hara's avatar

Oh, honey, your laugh made me laugh. There is more of a story here, how I escaped. No harm done. I might write it. You’ve encouraged me on now…

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Well, I would love to read that, Prajna! It sounds a pretty wild story!

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Ian Winter's avatar

My first service-industry job was a lot more mass-market: a holiday-camp kitchen, where a typical service was for 500 or so guests often damp from the rain.

I was “on starters”, which meant our army-trained (and so incredibly organised) chef had laid out 500 silver bowls and I’d fill each with the regulation treat: up to 4 prawns, two leaves of lettuce, a sliced tomato and a spoon of Marie Rose sauce. Load about 20 onto a tray and one of the wait-staff (a couple of notches up the social status than me) would whisk it out to the salivating masses.

I can still picture the only guy who seemed to be lower-status: a giant washer-upper, elbow-deep in a greasy sink the size of a padding pool, obscured by the steam for hours at a time.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Hahaha! “Up to four prawns”! The decadence!

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Jill Swenson's avatar

Your distinctive voice makes this a fun read.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Thank you, Jill.

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Margaret Bennett's avatar

Oh what a joy this is. I love the naivety of that first hospitality job and the sneaking around with meringues. Also I'm so impressed that you kept your diaries. They are brilliant. So funny Wendy a perfect read for a Wednesday.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Thanks, Margaret! Can you tell I had a strange relationship with food back then? The meringue thief! Yes, I've got past the "cringe factor" when I look back at my diaries now. I've enough distance to just enjoy being reminded of my younger self, naivety and all, without judgement. I'm glad I fought the urge to burn them!

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Rachael Rosewell's avatar

Sadly I did burn my diaries! And had similarly awful hotel jobs in my teens!

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Noooo, not more burnt diaries! I understand that temptation though!

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Jeffrey Streeter's avatar

This is great, Wendy.

I spent a summer helping out at my brothers' newly opened hotel in Torbay (very much Fawlty Towers territory) in 1980 or 81. I wasn't much good at it (I was better at dishwashing). I remember waiting on one charming gentleman from Cork. The problem was that his accent was so thick and unfamiliar to me that I could barely understand a word he said. So I had to guess what he wanted. He never sent anything back. Perhaps he was too polite.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Thanks, Jeffrey! Torbay at that time does sound like it would have been very Fawlty Towers. Hurrah for polite diners who take everything they’re given! I couldn’t get over the lady who waved away the fish tail disaster.

My sister reminded me yesterday that when I came home after working at the hotel I introduced her to Waldorf Salad with real mayonnaise and she gained several pounds. Waldorf was another of the calorific hors d’oeuvres staples.

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Jacqui Deevoy's avatar

Lovely read! My son has Andy Partridge’s old guitar. XTC were great. I was dancing at a club recently to Sergeant Rock.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Oh wow! Danny's got good taste, guitar-wise! XTC were great. It's been a treat listening to them again while writing this.

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Deborah Vass's avatar

I loved this piece. It is so evocative of that time and the telephone box...I had forgotten how exposing they were. I adored XTC (and thank you for the Guardian link)I used to play it over and over again!

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Thank you, Deborah. Good to know you were an XTC fan, too. That telephone booth in the hotel lounge - I still cringe at the memory!

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Rebecca Goodall's avatar

Wendy this popped up in my feed today and I was like huh. Now how did I miss a piece from Wendy. It's because I was bartending overtime and my days off to read/write for substack fell on when Helene hit us. All that to say I loved this. It's now ranked my favorite under Teddy Bear eyes but ahead of the magazine piece haha. I loved bartending which is why I went back to it this year. I feel the same way about SEO copywriting to sell things (last few jobs) as you did about hotel work. What a great great story with all your journal entries. So so good.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Thanks, Rebecca. You were working super-hard in the hospitality world yourself, and then Helene – no wonder you missed it! Glad you enjoyed. Sometimes those short but intense experiences seem to last an age. I've never done anything else remotely like that hotel summer!

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Chris Sollett's avatar

Great :) I particularly liked how, at first, the other staff were wary of you, as you came from South Yorkshire. Lol.

I also went to Goldsmiths, although not til '83 -' 86, probably a bit after you

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Thanks, Chris. That north/south (Yorkshire) divide!

Yes, I only stuck it out at Goldsmiths for two terms in the end, but stayed in that area for years afterwards.

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Ofifoto's avatar

Bit of catching up to do in my reading, it seems. Simon Callow was perfectly cast as Mr Beeb. Born in 1970, the 80s were my real growing up years. Great times. I worked at my Dad's pharmacy from a young age during school holidays. It was a brilliant introduction to working life.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Thanks, Ofifoto. That does sound a good first job to have had! And yay, Simon Callow as Mr Beeb. He was so good.

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Ollie Redfern's avatar

Such an interesting read, Wendy. Really enjoyed it! It brought to mind Ruth Rendell, for some reason. It just seems like the perfect setting for some crime (and the guilt initially falling on Billy.) Thank you also for linking to that Guardian article. I really like XTC and had no idea what had happened to Andy Partridge.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Thank you, Ollie. And thank you for sharing your comment as a Note. I replied there, but just realised that doesn’t copy across to here. Yes! It would make a good whodunnit setting! And yes, I was interested to read what happened to Andy Partridge. Hadn’t known about his tough childhood and the legacy it left.

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Sara's avatar

Loved reading this, Wendy! Your diary entries are wonderful! Makes me wish I’d kept more of my own 😢. My husband is from North Yorkshire so the “south (of Yorkshire) comment made me laugh 😆

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Thank you Sara. Haha! Yes, North Yorkshire seemed a different country (not county) to me! So I was similarly "foreign" to them.

Yes, I'm really glad I kept the diaries and overruled my "burn the cringe!" impulses. Some of it is down to my mum who kept absolutely everything, including my junior school news books, where we'd write about what we'd done over the weekend, or during the school holidays. A form of early diary. So I rediscovered those clearing my parents' house after they died. Hurrah for hoarders!

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Abruptly Biff's avatar

Lovely to hear your voice Wendy! But you mispronounced Basil. LOL.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Haha! That was the whole reason I did the voiceover! The autoplay function has US pronunciation that can't cope with Yorkshire dialect OR how to say basil correctly :D

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Abruptly Biff Contemplates's avatar

Just like Sybil Fawlty, you are!

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Jon Sparks's avatar

Good stuff. I know Grassington a bit, but couldn't place the Wilson Arms, and the nearest one Google can find is in the Lake District.

I never worked in hospitality but I still get a lot of resonances from your story. Worst job I ever had? Well, there was the one where I only lasted a day, but the less said about that the better. But between school and university I worked for more than six months at the Hornsea Pottery factory in Lancaster. Mostly in the sliphouse, where we prepared the clay. Hard work but generally OK. But anyone on the lowest rung of the ladder would have to take their turn at putting the holes in the salt and pepper pots. They were made in moulds and came out with a small dimple where each hole should be, so someone had to put the holes in. By hand, with a small drill-bit set in a wooden dowel. I think I remember the numbers right… eight holes in each pepper-pot, forty-eight pots to a tray, ten trays to a racking trolley—and ten more trays of salt pots the other side. You know the Beatles line about four thousand holes… It wasn't Blackburn, but it was Lancashire.

But that wasn't the worst thing. The worst thing was the way every single person who came past would lean in and wink and say, as if they honestly thought they were the first to think of it, "Looks like a BORING job you've got there." If there'd been one more… I honestly don't know what I might have done with that drill bit.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Ha! This make me smile, John. I've never thought about who puts the holes in a pepper pot. Yep, I can imagine that joke wore very thin after the first few times!

The hotel was just outside Grassington in Threshfield. It closed in 1988 and the building has since been converted into a care home.

Thanks so much for reading and for adding your own memories - and thanks for subscribing! Great to connect.

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Jon Sparks's avatar

Thanks for satisfying my curiosity.

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Catherine's avatar

Loved reading this and it brought back some long forgotten memories of my own very brief stint in hospitality in the early 90's. However, I especially liked the diary excerpts which, yet again, made me wish I'd kept one as a child/teen 😊

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Thanks, Catherine. Hope your hospitality memories weren't too hectic? So many people have stories about it! Such a rich seam.

Yes, I'm glad I kept a diary and hung on to it. Acres of boring angst, which is what a diary's for. But from this distance I see the bits of personal and social history and forgive myself the cringe factor. Heck, my diary is still pretty cringey! But I'm still a fan of keeping one.

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Catherine's avatar

I always got a diary for Christmas and usually managed a few entries, before just giving up. I never dreamed that my day to day life might one day be a source of amusement to myself or others. These days I journal religiously and I’m glad to say the habit’s finally stuck!

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Great that you've got the habit now, Catherine. Ironically, I've been writing my diary a lot less since writing on Substack!

My first proper diary was started in 1974, with just a few scattered entries, like yours, but then I refound it a couple of years later and wrote around those, so it's a patchwork of 1974 to 1979! Some pages just lists of calorie counting. A real jigsaw.

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Catherine's avatar

Well who doesn’t love a good jigsaw 😂

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Cherry Coombe's avatar

Great to hear you read this.

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Wendy Varley's avatar

Thank you, Cherry! I had to look up how to record within the editing features, but actually quite enjoyable and easy once I'd got the hang. After a few false starts!

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Cherry Coombe's avatar

i need to do that rather than making my recordings distinct posts ... back to the grindstone!!!

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Wendy Varley's avatar

You can import a recording if you’ve already saved the recording elsewhere, Cherry. If you go into ‘editing’ on any piece you’ve published, there’s a little headphones icon at the top. And it gives you the option of recording, or importing an existing recording.

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