Wednesday, March 28, 2007

It was only ten o clock but already the man in front of me smelled like a brewery.
Luckily my name was called and I went to the desk to speak to the woman about signing on again.
She glanced at my details and asked why I had exactly left The Health Food Shop That Shall Never Be Named.
I took a breath and tried to explain to her, about the holiday I had been refused even though I still was owed 4 weeks worth, about the druggies and shoplifters, about the ones that had assualted me or other members of staff, of the working conditions, no heating, no air conditioning, not being allowed to take a cold or warm drink onto the shop floor, about how I was left for vast periods on my own.
She looked bored and said my information would go to a panel and they would decide whether I was entitled to any money or not.
She asked why I had chosen to do a career that was hard to find work for and why I hadn't applied for any jobs in that field since leaving uni, and I tried to explain that it hadn't been that simple, about Dad and how I'd had to care for him, how Mother had been in that car accident, totally writing the car off and needing a hysterectomy and not being allowed to go back to work for fear she might have a stroke.
And then I looked at her, and she was sitting back in her chair with her arms folded and the look on her face that said "You're telling me a lot of bullshit and I know it, cos you're just like all the rest of them, dole scum, not willing to work."
So I shut up and shrugged and filled out the rest of the forms in silence biting on my tongue the urge to tell her she'd spelt "relocate" wrong on the form that she was filling in on my behalf.

2 comments:

weenie said...

It's harsh but it always is for folk like you who really are trying to look for work but need some help in the meantime.

Good luck with the jobhunting.

HistoryGeek said...

I hope you find something that you will love. That's the important goal.