Today I had a rather bleak but sociologically interesting experience at my local Job Centre somewhere in the East End of Glasgow. Gone are the days when jobs were printed on postcards and blue tacked to the walls. Now the place is littered with futuristic looking touch-screen computer pods for all your job searching needs. I witnessed one track suited desperado punctuating each touch of the screen with a good arse-scratch. At one point I thought he was digging for tatties. One of the Serfs, sorry advisors prompted me to make use of one of these pods but I politely declined citing internet access at home. The truth is I wasn’t going anywhere near one of those things without a bottle of bleach and a pair of industrial strength rubber gloves.
The waiting area was filled to the brim with Caledonian Monomaniacs and other such mutants. One mad banshee of a woman was there with her young daughter who seemed only to answer to the name of ‘Wee Shite’.
Ned number 2 was bemoaning his ‘baw breaker’ of a girlfriend who texted him at every opportunity accusing him of cheating on her. Mrs Ned refused to believe that her man was in the Job Centre, preferring instead to believe he was fingering some poor lassie round the back of Asda.
And then there was this big huge guy who failed to grasp the fact that he couldn’t go on the dole while he was a full-time student. “But I don’t have a job,” says he. “You’re a student though, so you’re not eligible for Job Seekers.” “But I don’t have a job…” The conversation continued in this vain until I was eventually called to see my Government Serf, I mean ‘Advisor.’
One of the first things he asked was, “What is your highest level of education?”
“I have a degree in Psychology,” says I.
“Psychology? How do you spell that?”
It was at that very moment that I lost my will to live.
The Advisor then quipped, “oh, you’re not sitting there analysing me, are you?” It was all I could do not to tell him that I was fairly sure it Is impossible to analyse someone who has undergone a full frontal fucking lobotomy! To be fair though he has probably become stupid through osmosis - I’m sure spending all day with mutants can’t be good for you.
Friday, 5 February 2010
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I feel for you...I was made redundant just over two months ago and I'm now seriously considering taking any job that's going just to get off Jobseekers and away from the JobCentre - even one manually sorting through recycling! Although my JobCentre doesn't sound as grim as yours, even though I'm in Thurrock (just east of London)... The problem is, they aren't used to dealing with people who can think for themselves...it makes them nervous!
ReplyDeleteI think you're right. The serfs probably know we could do their job in our sleep :) Do they have those weird pods in your jobcentre too?
ReplyDeleteHello. I'm a jobseeker too, and I'd like to thank you for bolstering an idea I've already had: keep away from Job Centres (and that includes the ones called "plus" as well)! Bobby Morris.
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