Now Recruiting

Now I find myself striving to find things to do daily (being semi-unemployed), I remember an article I wrote for my local newspaper, aged 16, about being unable to find a Saturday job. At my expense, I'll humour you...

Short of prostitution and joining a convent, I don't know what to do: I can't get a Saturday job.

Gone are the days of growing up and getting a job at sixteen. No longer do you go out and get a job, the jobs come in and get you! The arrival of our National Insurance numbers at 15 and nine months are mere glimpses of loosely dangled false hope. No thanks.

One interview of only two, having dispersed several dozen C.Vs, I was the only applicant of seven without a pierced or tattooed face(1). This was at a pharmacy, and needless to say, I wasn't offered the job. Apparently 'hygienic' wasn't on the checklist. As for my other 50 C.Vs , now harbouring the Slough recycling site I imagine, tell all the right lies so how did they make the trash?

Perhaps it concerns Tesco that I could single-handedly run the show? If only I were Eastern European and knew not of the English word 'exploit'. I recall a bizarre happening at this: a month ago or so, I was grabbing a latte in a Starbucks. Putting my card into the PIN machine, I explained to Conchita or Lolita, or whoever I had been lucking to catch on said day, that I would pay with cash if my card was denied. As the expected 'DENIED' flashed on the PIN machine, she happily handed my drink over, and 'Hab a nith day!' she grinned passing over the receipt also titled 'DENIED'. Perhaps I'll donate that £3.50 or so to the Geldofs.

Of the question 'And why do you want to work here?', the answer 'Cuz I like want to get money' achieves a far higher pass than that of 'Because I am passionately interested in this particular field'! Who are employers these days? Whatever happened to brown-nosing the boss? If I were to sincerely promise to spend my £4.30 an hour on short skirts from Primark, alcohol and condoms, would I stand a chance?

Having concluded that I was over-qualified to work amongst the public, I applied for a temporary finance position at Legoland. As everything these days, the application process was online, and after filling in the lengthy form, I received an e-mail approximately 15 seconds later, telling me that they did not want me. Well, I retorted, I didn't want you either!

Don't get me wrong, I am constantly running into young employees, so I'm not implying a form of ageism, however, with rhyming cockney, greased and fried bosses, what hope is there for the elite-haitch-pronouncing-few? (2) A young Marks & Spencer's member of staff recently gave me, what she might describe as 'evils' when I asked for some help. After persistent rudeness, I felt ready to explode: "How did they employ you?" I wanted to shout to anyone who would listen. In my fury, I left, purse firmly shut. Is this how St Michael lost his millions?

"Hi, how may I help you?" How hard can it be? Apparently it can: anymore than a "yer...wot?" and you're lucky a smile is almost certainly out of the question! I've actually taken to ridiculing particularly uninspiring shop staff. I would mostly ward you from fabric shops just don't chance it; their zombie-like boredom could spread, and God forbid a world of unintelligent lemmings!

My one paid workday this summer, I was a runner on a commercial, and I'll shock few, by telling you that the other runner was an Oxford Law graduate. But being naïve, this struck me as peculiar, but peculiar more so, when he confessed how he made his living: handing out flyers. So that's that: I won't be applying to Oxford, in fact, I should drop out of school now and take a vocational waxing course at a TVU college and all these years, I thought university was the future! Conceivably, a university graduate could argue his qualification to work at a launderette or as a dishwasher, but the nation's fear of a higher intelligence than its own worries me somewhat.

Can you not trace this negative correlation as the onward direction? Admittedly, I have had a horrid but subconscious superiority instilled, and therefore, today's youth, is only what I see in public either the nation is collectively losing brain cells though evidently not, as A-levels are on the up or employers are picking the dullest bunch. Dull: no thoughts: no opinions: no argument: no messing around. Ah, I see the logic. Well, I guess there's no argument then!

I cringe in horror at my earlier arrogance (sounding nearer fifty, than fifteen (3)), but sadly, the situation hasn't changed a huge amount: I still find myself failing to get, what are essentially, incredibly ordinary jobs. No skills required. I recall, however, an interview at FatFace in Windsor, where I appeared, mid-interview, with an outfit I had been instructed to pick out for the manager. Having lied about my ski and surf history, on being asked about my choice, "i think you'd look hot in it" I proudly grinned(4). This was in January. I evidently still have no shame...

Reading Shakespeare - Bill Bryson
Listening to Pon de Replay/ Disturbia - Rihanna

(1) I might point out I have since acquired eight further piercings since the original time of print...
(2) OUCH!
(3)I also promise I have joined the real world now!!
(4) I wouldn't like to say I didn't also wink.