Saturday, July 14, 2012

Week Two As A Womble

On my first day back after my day off wasn't off to a great start as a brutal Scottish man told me that I "should be shot" for charging such prices. I think it was more likely to be him giving us scots a bad name, not following the mutual friendliness between Scottish people when in the Big Smoke.

It also turned out that our old manager Kendal had been fired for sneaking people into Wimbledon, there were already wild rumours involving selling fake tickets and spending a night in a police cell. The later part was true, apparently. The rest of the story was not nearly as exciting as all he was doing was buying tickets from the resale kiosk and passing them onto his friends and the club looked upon this as something really bad and actually got him taken away by the police. Our new manager Tom was to say with us until the final and Sunday and thankfully he seemed to be as relaxed as Kendal, and having worked up from a hot dog stand six years ago to several managerial jobs here at only 22, he knew what he was doing.

Then one of the big names at FMC came up into the bar and saw the tip plates on the bar and came in shouting saying we would all be fired if he came up and saw them there again. I don't think they could really afford to fire anymore people up here...

Final insane point from the day comes from talking to James, one of the security guards who had been on the bar all last week. When we finally got talking we realised we had a mutual friend and not just one from school but one he had met in a folkhogskule in Norway. Really small world.

Most other days at Wimbledon were getting quite similar, the work was pretty much the same everyday and I was catching a lot less Tennis as the matches didn't need to be on for so long. Still I got what I could. The people coming into the Bar got richer and richer as the days went on and when it got to men's final day the kind of rich people you think only exsist in cartoons were around.

The final was full of hype, mainly due to the fact Andy Murray was the first british playing in a Wimbledon final since 1938 and a win would make a perfect cheer up to the Jubilee fans sodden from the Euro 2012. The only problem was that in his way was, in my opinion, the best tennis player in the world: Roger Federer. I was, not so secretly, a huge Roger Federer fan and this seemed to absolutely shock many people. How dare I not support a brit! Therefore I would probably be happy with either outcome.

When it came to catching the match on my lunch break I had timed it pretty well catching a bit of the first set and then the last one and the trophy giving. Centre Court was, as you can imagine, full to the brim but the one of the sweet little Honourary Stewards let me sit down in his chair to catch a glimpse of the final. It still felt strange knowing that some people might have paid something in the tens of thousands to get a seat here and I was lucky enough to sit in on my lunch break!

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