So I’m waiting….
John has cut his finger while attempting to redesign his Cunning Cellar Cooler (TM).
One of the painters has sliced his knuckle open, I suspect while attempting to remove ancient papier mache using a razor scaper.
Anyone who runs a business and tells you that they have no problems with finding and/or retaining staff is either lying, deluded, or employing only members of their own family.
This time around, we tried advertising in the Southern Reporter, a newspaper which reaches most of the Borders. By the closing date, I’d received a grand total of three application forms. Five days later, I’d received another two.
Of these five:
One has already found a job
Two have chosen not to provide a telephone number, so I can’t invite them for interview even if I wanted to
One has provided her parents’ number in Edinburgh, as her mobile has stopped working. Her parents have no way to contact her….
One is coming for interview on Tuesday.
And people wonder why so much of the hospitality industry is staffed by workers from outwith the UK. Just as soon as I have living space for them, I’ll be looking for a pair of friendly immigrants too!
Three days of empty pub + Minimal staffing = One baby surprise which needs buttons and sewing up.
So at least I’ve achieved something this week.