Du Boulot

Remember the British pub I tried to work at last time I was here? They didn't hire me, and even took the trouble of sending me a formal rejection letter, which was written with more care than the one Northwestern University sent me in 2003.
Well, somebody's come crawling back. And that somebody is me.
I already had an interview for another British pub in Paris a few weeks ago. I botched it. Example:

Interviewer: Now, we're really looking for a social kind of guy, someone who will go out on the floor and get the party started when it gets late.

Me: (stares ahead with blank expression)

Interviewer: Uhh...yes?

Me: Huh? Uh, yeah! Party guy, that's me. Make some noise, yeah! No, seriously, I uh...like people. A lot.

(interviewer hastily scribbles something bad on notepad)

Interviewer: And you have experience in bartending?

Me: (stares ahead with blank expression)

Interviewer: Are you okay?

Anyway, I tried my luck at the one I tried in 2006 with surprising success--I didn't even have to crack out my "true" story of working at Park Bench in Emory Village for a summer and sheepishly admitted that my cocktail-mixing skills were far from Tom Cruise's in "Cocktail."
My boss informed me that some people have "it" or don't, and that he'll often tell trainees to leave after a week if they can't handle the job.
Obviously I have "it," despite Philip's frequent claims to the contrary in these situations.
The uniform requires a pair of tight black pants--I guess they don't actually have to be incredibly tight, but I accidentally bought a size or two too small. It also requires that workers are cleanly shaven or have a full "beard"--I'm still deciding which way to swing this one.
Anyway, if you're down at Bercy Village and you want a flaming Manhattan on the rocks, I am now your man. Ha ha ha! (note: I'm going to work on laughing a lot for my new job, since bartenders always seem to be "peppy.")

I just did another one of those "Epiphany" parties with the cake and the plastic figure inside (my 5th so far). I lost again. This is going to be one hell of a rough year.