Well, I got a job.
I was offered a position as a waitress at an amazingly beautiful tapas restaurant in one of the coolest corners of Berlin, Hackescher Markt (see photos).
I went last night to the “training,” which meant they put me on the floor with no preparation whatsoever, on Saturday night (i.e. busiest time of the week) to see how I could do. After three hours, I knew the name of every possible tapas dish in German, and had the whole thing down pat. Of course, I don’t speak to the clients – I can barely remember “my name is…” sometimes. So I just make tapas…rather, spoon the tapas into little dishes and heat them up and put them on plates for the real waitresses to take out to the customers. Anyway, it’s a job, and I can speak Spanish and English, and I’ll be surrounded by food all day.
But of course, I can’t start said job until I have the f-ing residence permit. Completely ridiculous. I’m trying to work around it.
Tomorrow (I think, though the boss has yet to confirm the time) I will give my practice tour to the tour guide company owner, where I’ll either be hired or told I’m a piece of crap. I’m hoping it’s the former.
Have you ever heard of someone with two jobs who’s still homeless? Crazy.