Imagine a job where the only days you could get off were when it rained, or in the middle of winter. Imagine you could never get away from your job when the weather was nice, because that's when your job was busy. Imagine all those you are working for are out in the sun, laughing and jolly, while you're inside sweating your proverbials off. Imagine the frustration when you get asked, several times everyday "Do you get out on the fells much yourself?" and have to answer "No" and still remain cheerful.
Imagine you got to meet some of the most interesting people, everyday, and facilitate their enjoyment to such obvious pleasure that you feel on top of the world with their gratitude. Imagine some of your best customers become your best friends and come back, time and time and time again.
Imagine you have to deal with some of the worst and most inconsiderate people everyday of your life. They come into your home, treat you like a second class citizen, cost you more than they spend, vandalise your property and claim it was an accident, and then wonder why you ask them to leave. Imagine you have people verbally assault you and then wonder why your customer focus looses its calibration.
Imagine you get to brew beer that gets drunk more than other people's beer next to it. Imagine that you get to experiment with new brews and they still sell, imagine the satisfaction in that.
Imagine you like to do something different with food, to experiment and design new dishes and ideas that impress your best customers. Imagine this is written about nearly everyday in the visitor's book of your hotel. Imagine that you are always being told by the people who keep coming back how much you've improved the place.
Imagine, despite everything you do, or have ever done, you cannot seem to make much difference to the money you earn. Imagine every year that you work out you've earned significantly less than the minimum wage and broken the working time directive for yourself several times over. Imagine you can never relax in your own home.
Imagine that your ideas of how a pub should be run are shattered, into a million pieces, and you rebuild them, piece by piece by piece.
Imagine the people, the friends, the enemies, the achievements, the tragedies, the hard work, the satisfaction and frustration all rolled into one. Imagine you'd love to start again and do it all differently.
Imagine, despite it all, you'd do it all over again.
