I worked my second day at Kyteler's Inn. It's an easy job, and I like that a lot. There's no stress involved, and the people who work there have a good time at work. They're all a bit clannish, family-like and I don't mind that. They all have a joke and a gossip between them, as long as it keeps the stress out of the air, I don't mind. I'll go about my business.
I'm doing washup, also known as kitchen porter, the same as "dishwasher" in the States. I'm making 5 euro per hour.
I bought the International Herald Tribune at a shop on Kieran Street on the way home from work. Reading merrily through it in the cursory once-over that only works with newspapers, I came to page 7 and found it hopelessly smeared in manufacture. I decided to bring it back and ask if they had another copy to exchange. The woman said that it was the last one — but that she'd give me my money back. She told me I could keep the paper.