My new job and methadone fix

New British number: 011447856025643.

A two hour plane trip across the continent left me in London at 10pm, where my Mom's best friend (who lives in London) picked me up and brought me home.
The next day, I woke up late, got some breakfast, and went back to sleep. I woke up around 1 or 2pm and went out to get lunch. The first breakfast/brunch shop I entered was a bit too expensive, but I saw a "Waitress wanted" sign in the window.
"Can I help you?" a guy in the back asked.
I was about to leave, and I almost said no thanks.
"Yeah, I know I'm not a woman, but would you be interested in hiring me as a waiter?" I asked.
"We want someone for weekends," the guy in the back said. "Does that work for you?"
"I could do weekends," I said.
"Okay. Come here tomorrow for training," he said gruffly.
"Okay," I said.
"What is your name?"
"Andrew."
"Okay. Nice to meet you."
"And -- sorry -- what's your name?" I asked.
"Jimmy," he said, with great intensity.
I left, pretending to be casual. When I was out of earshot of the restaurant, I started singing in the London rain. I couldn't believe my luck. When I told Vega (my Mom's best friend) and Naomi (Vega's younger daughter, about my age, who I have known for almost all my life), they couldn't believe it either. Kids here spend three to four weeks job-hunting, they said. Last summer, Alese (Vega's older daughter) spent three weeks before she found a waitering job at a bar, and Naomi spent three weeks before she decided that babysitting was the better way to go. I pulled down a job on my first day, on my first trip out of the house, when I was looking for lunch, not work. The best part is that I was doing laundry that day, and almost everything was in the wash, so I came to ask for work in flip-flops and sweats.
I wondered whether my luck had been too good to be true. Had "Jimmy" had been a customer playing a prank?
My fears seemed prophetic when I came for "training" the next day around 9am.
"Who's Jimmy?" the woman behind the counter asked.
I said he seemed like the manager or the owner, and that he had given me a waitering job.
"Was he fat?" she asked.
"No," I told her.
"Okay, wait until Susana comes," she said.
A half hour later, Susana also didn't know who Jimmy was.
I was getting worried, until Susana had a revelation.
"Was he thin, kind of Turkish looking?" she asked.
I said he was.
"Ah! Mossaud!" she said. "He's telling people his name's Jimmy because he thinks it sounds more Western."
...
I kid you not.

The day was smooth sailing from there. Mossaud/Jimmy came in around 11 and recognized me. I was already working. Mostly, I am a waiter. I also toweled down tables, polished glasses, made drinks, and cleaned the bathroom. But by far the most fun part of the job is waitering.
And, as if this wildly lucky gig couldn't get better, Mossaud/Jimmy told me that he might soon need someone for weekdays. I might have a full-time job here!

Meanwhile, chilling with Naomi and her friends has been great. Yesterday, six or seven of us went to a pub for the night. (And now I have fully experienced British culture.)
More importantly, Naomi has Scrubs Season 1 on DVD. We watched an episode, and I was a drug addict getting my fix.