Jobs for the Bjørgs
Summer is in full swing and no doubt you’ve thought about boosting your travel fund by dipping your toes into the murky work of employment. It’s not all bad.
Down the years I’ve had a range of jobs, from the humble to the sophisticated. Being in the right place at the right time can go a long way to scoring the perfect backpacker job - i.e., a job without the worries of long-term commitment, flexible work hours and access to perks. [1] In fact, many of the positions I’ve held scarcely count as work. For example, at the turn of the millennium I was a bartender on a small cruise boat company in Sydney Harbour for one summer. Not only was I paid close to the minimum wage but we were permitted to drink up to two beers at the end of each shift. [2] Talk about score!
Another job I had was the night facilities manager of a hotel resort in Port Douglas. At the time I was working in the movie industry on a passion project but chose to earn some extra cash on the side. It was a sweet gig. Not only did I get to drive a golf cart around the tight pathways at high speed [3] I also had access to the hotel storage room. Given the hotel offered villa-style accommodation, this meant I had a “business need” [4] to enter the locked area. As a result, my caravan at Pandanus Caravan Park was easily the best equiped on the entire site: real cotton sheets, china plates and enough cleaning products to almost kill all the cockroaches and fleas.
So you see, when looking for a job this summer it’s important to look beyond the base pay and understand where you, as the backpacker, can cash in [5] in other respects. Think: free food, free drinks, discounts, or access to a lost property box.
STREET OF SHAME: The view looking up Hall Street, where I began a CV drop. Seemingly there are no jobs around at the moment. In fact, look closely at bottom-left of the image and you'll note a hard-up backpacker has resorted to selling her wares on the street. And by "wares" I mean the clothes laid out in front of her that she'd probably stolen anyway, though who's to say she isn't also offering herself.* Fortunately I signed her little backpack and two of the sarongs laid out on the floor, which would have added significant value. Her face turned red with built up emotion!
* I did inquire. It's just the clothes.
Unfortunately, the job market is fierce at the moment. Just last week I conducted a CV drop of all the cafes and restaurants on Hall Street. In the past I discovered this is best done by asking to speak directly to the manager. A stern middle-aged man or woman would then eventually appear, ask a few questions and make an assessment about (a) whether you were likely to steal from the til, (b) if you were likely to turn up to work every day, and, most importantly, (c) whether you were the type of person to complain when handed a small manilla envelope containing less than you were supposed to have earned.
These days, the managers of Bondi’s cafes and bars are much younger and, I assume, all part of a sect, the requirements for which are: tattoo sleeves and long beards.
You’d have laughed as much as I did when tattooed manager after bearded manager quizzically looked me up and down before even acquiescing to take the CV from my outstretched hand. Some of them even had the audacity to wipe the single-sided A4 sheet of paper with the sleeve of their rolled-up chequered shirt sleeve before touching it. [6] While in one instance the manager assumed I was handing him my daughter’s CV, to which I simply smiled and wrote the name of this website down on one of her cheap paper napkins. She’s probably face-palming herself as she reads this!
LE PARIS NO! Don't even think about asking for a job at this Hall Street locale. Not unless you're a Scandinavian nymphette who enjoys carrying plates of bacon and eggs while walking around in hotpants. Note the black spots around the entrance floor: these are stains left by all the tanning oil dripping from their shapely golden thighs. How this place gets away with such a brazenly sexist recruitment policy is anyone's guess.
Based on my experiences last week I’d say there are zero jobs going at the moment. Except for at Le Paris Go. Here it seems they will hire anyone, providing your are of Danish/Swedish/Norwegian descent, female, approximately 18-22 years old, and willing to wear hot-pants all day. [7]
I write the above not because I’m desperate for the money. Far from it. Like I’ve mentioned in the footnotes below, Glorified Gypsy Moonshine™ is predicted to be a success. While The Big Galah continues to provide me with shelter absolutely free of charge. [8] It’s more for the rest of you non Danish/Swedish/Norwegian females (and males) who are looking for work. If old Glory was turned away, what hope do the rest of you have?
[1] Free stuff
[2] The caveat being we were only allowed VB or Toohey’s New - beers only an alcoholic would love, really. These beers pre-dated the modern vogue for craft beer which have certainly improved the quality of Australia’s beer making, though even that has fallen into the trap of making only pale ales. Incidentally, the Glorified Gypsy craft beer will soon be hitting the streets of Bondi. It’s technically a home-brew in its current guise and would probably only be sold on that particularly dark section of Ramsgate Avenue after sunset. Check it out tonight! The street value is $4 per bottle, on the proviso you drink it on the spot and return the bottle immediately.
[3] Some people have mocked me when I describe the velocity these carts reached, but it’s all relative. Where SPEED = NARROWNESS OF PATHWAYS x NUMBER OF BLIND SPOTS / BATTERY STATUS it seemed - on a full charge and down slope - I was travelling at warp speed.
[4] My lawyer’s phrase, not mine.
[5] Not literally - I think I’ve made it clear we’re not in it for the money.
[6] They shouldn’t make their Danish pastries so greasy!
[7] In that case simply turn up and start waiting tables.
[8] Would you call changing the sheets in four of the 8 bed dorm rooms, washing the floors and emptying the bins, “work”? I thought not!