The autumnal Andalusian breeze once again dares to kiss the humid evening air, while summer slinks back to her unholy headquarters in order to plan next year's sledgehammer assault on our senses. This time of year, ladies and gentleman, is marvellous news for The Shakespeare Public House. July and August are our worst months by far as a wanton and capricious public indulges in activities only befitting of the criminally insane e.g. going to the beach.
From now until spring, experience tells us that custom will be brisk and people who have temporarily taken leave of their senses for a couple of months, recover their capacity for coherent thinking and begin to frequent our humble establishment once again.
In turn, this means we need to hire more staff. In days of yore, this would have meant digging out the myriad CVs that had been handed in over in recent weeks, calling a few numbers and picking the best candidate. Not now, though. No, these days it's a question of advertising the post online which, let me tell you, is quite the Pandora's box.
This is how it goes down. First you put the advert out, which triggers a steady stream of personal calls from acquaintances, sometimes friends, who know someone who desperately needs a job. It's awkward, but you try to be polite.
"Do they speak Spanish and English fluently?"
"No, but they learn really fast and if they don't get a job this week, their pet goldfish will explode in tragic circumstances and also they're my very best friend in the whole wide world."
"I'm really sorry, but it just wouldn't work."
"Ok, I understand." (Implying the opposite).
Once that phase is over, the CVs start to roll in. This is where the fun really starts. Thirty per cent will have no profile picture at all. Of the remainder another vast proportion will include a photo taken with a pet cat or dog/in the bathroom mirror/in the mirror of a lift/out on the town/out on the town with a group of friends. I kid you not. It appears that the blurred line between real life and social media life is, well, very very blurry indeed.
By now, having filtered out the all of the above, you stand clutching the one remaining CV in your shaking hand as you dial the phone nervously.
"Hello. Is that David? About that bar job you applied for. Can you start in half an hour?"