Looking For a Yob

In desperate need of a laugh, my fellow bartenders and I to this day try and incorporate the word 'yob' into daily speech, and then pretend we're trying not to laugh. It came about when one late afternoon this young feller walked in, his hand clutching a newly baked A4 CV sheet, and timidly approached the bar. I happened to be on call behind the wooden plank whence drinks are served, so when asked if he could be helped, the gentleman kindly told me: "I'm looking for a yob". 

We'd barely had any other guests in at that point, but I'd presumed this Rob must be here somewhere. I looked around, as if Rob would maybe notice this and come to meet this young lad himself. 

"A... job?", the guy hesitantly corrected himself. "Kenn I leave thees?" - [at this point I just need to let you in on how hard it was to actually comprehend his words; he turned out to be a recent undergraduate Italian] - handing me a single white sheet. 

See, in some languages the letter 'J' is more often than not, or exclusively, pronounced as a 'ye' sound, say, Jacob might get pronounced as 'Ya-kohb' or similarly. Also, oddly enough, I have had to correct people saying 'joga', referring to yoga. Jogurt. Anyway. 

I returned to my mind-numbing and comfortably lulling menial tasks with my colleagues, and casually retold the story. Collectively, we immediately found it hilarious how someone so illiterate in the local language would apply for such a difficult and eloquence requiring position as a bartender. I'm not kidding, we laughed hysterically at this, but like I said, there do come desperate times. 

I suppose I felt so great laughing at the poor lad because I knew I was at least better than him. At doing what he wanted to be doing, anyway. 

Wait, I think I know that guy. Sasha?... It IS you! So how did that scamming business back in Lithuania turn out for you?

Last year, 155,000 people from the EU arrived into the UK, according to the government statistics website. One of them was this Antonio, or Ricardo - no, that's a Spanish name - this poor dude. Oh, 74,000 left, but here on the website they even give you reduction so you don't worry your noodle too much: +82,000. Imagine all of those people fitting in one annual boat. Someone magically gathers them from all nooks and corners, and just for the effect of our imaginations, stuffs a floating arc with eighty two thousand maybe-English-speaking-maybe-not immigrants who are staying. Granted, most of them will eventually find jobs, learn the language, muck into all the easily available drugs recreationally, and adapt in every other way that is to do with our daily routines here, I'm sure.

I guess more than anything this constant overturn of citizens teaches people to try and see things through others' boots. And walk in their point of view.
I wonder what he ended up doing, that Italian.

Well, welcome to London, kiddo. 

[Picture from http://www.telegraph.co.uk/finance/economics/8935943/Gap-between-rich-and-poor-growing-fastest-in-Britain.html]