of a softie and a bouncer

I officially began my new life as a full time staff at an internet café last Wednesday. It’s not really an exciting job, but it pays the bills. I work long hours, but then again even with my previous company I work even longer hours and sometimes I was not at home for days.

I guess this one is okay. No fancy title to define who I am. No big salary or a beemer to show off. No expensive dresses or gadget to match.

To be honest, I asked myself, do I really care? Does it bother me that I don’t have all these? Imagine when I go home to Malaysia and people would be asking,

“So what do you do in London?”

“I work at internet café”

“Really? You mean you have an internet café?”

“No. I’m the bouncer”

“Oh!”

Ah well.

I am the bouncer, really. I have thrown a few people out of my store. You see, 3 teenagers came to the store almost every day. One day I caught them in the area that was closed so I threw them out. This week they came again, and I suspected that they were hacking into the system.

I confronted them. Me short fat woman, them big tall boys. I am not the confrontational type. Never. I walk from an argument and even if I tried, I’d lose big time. My hands were shaking and my voice trembled. They made it worse when one of them challenged me. I called 999. Well, I didn’t really call the police, but I pretended that I did.

A lot of things had happened since I work here. Some are good, some bad. The bad ones make me wish that I never changed my job, but I guess it’s the harsh and hard reality of life that one has to face.

I am simple yet complicated. The softie me will have to toughen up. And I guess it’s about time to discover and re-discover.