The Man Living On Our Floor Part Five

If you have been hanging out for part five of the Man Living On Our Floor series, I apologise. If you haven't, why not? It's funny. Anyway, for reasons which will become clear next episode, I stopped because we were a bit worried about the guy. And, even though I'm giving away the story a bit, I'll let you know that it works out okay. I can be a bastard but not that much of a bastard.

Anyway, since the Man Living On Our Floor arrived in Bath he has worked a few jobs. He first worked at a liquor store where he pissed off management by turning up late & hungover for every shift - his nights drinking and young-womanising taking their toll. On top of his lacklustre work performance he sold copious amount of liquor using his staff discount (a whole hostel's worth in fact) as well as telling everyone within earshot that there were plenty of jobs going - "Just turn up and tell them I sent you". Alex went along and said, "I heard there are jobs going". "Do you know (the Man Living on Pete & Marianne's Floor)?" "Yes" "Well, contrary to what he's told every traveller and bum in town, there are no jobs at the moment. There maybe in the future. If you come back, don't tell the manager you know him."

After quitting the booze shop because of management's refusal to hire his friends, the Man Living on Our Floor got a two-nights-a-week job as night porter at a plush hotel. It didn't occur to him to adjust his sleep habits (which involved at least a handful of early-morning drunken slumber hours per day) - he just exchanged a couple of night's sleep for work. And, as is his nature, he took the job a little too lightly for the more serious managerial types. Luckily, one of his immediate superiors was partial to a mid-shift nap and thus, in a spirit of complicity, was happy to let the Man Living on Our Floor do his thing. His thing being to drink copious amount of tea, surf the net, polish his shoes, doze in linen closets and to make himself sandwiches the size of an adolescent tapir - (http://www.tapir.org/two_tapirs.jpg).

The lack of rest brought about by sleeping only five nights a week was exacerbated when he took on a second job at a convenience store. Not that the job was particularly taxing. The Man Living on Our Floor could invariably be found smoking rollies outside the shop where one could talk to him while looking through the storefront window at a large queue of paper & milk grasping locals leading up to a poor teenage coworker. He would "work" there between hotel shifts, dropping back to our place to get changed and to sleep on the couch for five minutes at a time (tea in hand).

While employed by Smile the only thing that drew him away from his perpetual smoke break was his newfound interest in catching shoplifters. He would sit in front of the cctv screen under the shop for hours - attempting to foil the efforts of the local kids and bums. He did this because the work he was actually hired for didn't interest him at all. And, as is his nature, he took to adopting the parlance of the poor police he frequently summoned. "We caught three of them today, " he told me. "But one got away. We have him on tape but I don't know if the incident will translate to a crime reference number or not". Marianne, who began working at the same shop shortly after he did, was incredibly embarrassed by his attempts to communicate with the cops on their level. "I think they just wanted him to stop talking".