I apologize for the dull nature of this first post, but I thought it would provide a good background as to why I am writing a blog in the first place so please have a read and come back throughout the next few weeks to discover the next steps to my story!
February 2002:
As a young lad, the prospect of a paper round to earn a little pocket money was incredible. I had heard tales from many a school friend who had pocketed large tips over the Christmas period from loyal customers which led me (in February…) to enquire about the possibilities of a local paper round. I was delighted (looking back that is probably not the right word to use) to discover that there was a paper round in the evenings after school, only 3 miles from where I lived! At the age of 14, £12 a week for simply riding round for 2 hours on the cold and no doubt wet February nights was amazing. I had finally grown up and reached manhood. I had a job.
My parents had other ideas and to say they had reservations was an understatement. They were not too keen on either the safety or the logistics of the operation which I was about to undertake.
Despite being warned off it by my mum who seemed to think that me on a bike, in the dark, miles from home was a bad idea I almost skipped from school to the paper shop and waltzed up to the counter to proclaim that I was the new paper boy on the block. The heartache and disappointment at being told that I was too late and somebody else had already taken the round was gut wrenching and I still remember the hideous sicky feeling at receiving that news. I remember feeling the hatred towards the shop keeper as he literally tore through me with his words. I left the shop a broken child, just managing to keep the tears within until I had slammed the door behind me in disgust (disclaimer – this fact about the door is the only untrue part of this story, but I thought it added greater dramatic effect than putting “until the doors had gently slid shut behind me”). On arriving home, as the family sat around thinking about their youngest son finally joining the work force the only condolences which could be offered by my mother were “oh it wasn’t meant to be” and other pointless sayings which come out to try and make you feel slightly better about your failings. For some reason having a paper round at 14 makes you somebody, but being rejected for one makes you feel like the lowest of the low, resulting in statements like “if I can’t even get a paper round, what hope do I have?”…
Following this traumatic experience I began the hunt for a part time job. I remember seriously thinking at one point – why had the local job centre basically laughed in my face when I rang them and told them I was 14 and looking for a part time job. Now I realise I must have looked a bit of a knob head to say the least – “what are your skills?”, to which the best reply I could probably muster was “well I am predicted a 7 in my year nine SATS”… I rang around all the pubs, all the shops but nobody seemed to want to employ someone of my age – it was probably something to do with it being against almost every employment law but never mind.
It was a Thursday night and I was all alone at home when the phone rang. To my amazement it was a pub where I had left a message earlier in the week. They had some washing up and glass collecting that needed doing on the Friday night. Four hours to start off with at £3 an hour. This was almost too much to bear… The same as a paper round would pay, in four hours. Unbelievable. The old cliché from my mum then came out “see I told you, every cloud has a silver lining”. Well actually no you didn’t, you told me that it was for the better I did not get my paper round because you knew you would end up driving me everywhere. Now I have a real job though you are saying you were right and you predicted this…
I worked my socks off on the Friday night, cleaning everything the kitchen threw at me to the highest standard. On a side note, maybe this is something more parents should try with kids as it would save a lot of arguments! I was willing to wash up some dishes for £3 an hour, yet if at home I was asked there would be a full blown argument, generally with me putting a cricket bat through my brother’s door, or throwing a small wooden boat at somebody. How long does washing up a family meal take? 15 minutes? So if my parents offered to pay me £3 an hour to do it, it would be done hassle free at a small cost to them… Maybe.
At the end of the shift I was invited back for 6 hours on the Saturday morning. Not just £12 a week, but £30. This resulted in me going home and digging out the Argos catalogue and working out what I would invest in. I initially settled for a TV, Video and DVD combo priced at something like £700 but in the end settled for an XBOX at £400 which was well worth it at the time. I saved and saved and gradually picked up extra shifts here and there and with pay rises each birthday I was soon properly minted.
You know you have finally made it in life when you can finally put a tenner inside your best mates birthday card rather than the fiver that everyone else is giving and that was that.
7 years later:
Four years of a University degree and lots of cleaning of dishes etc later, I find myself in that same position as I was almost 7 and a half years ago. Jobless and wondering where the next penny will come from. Another of the old clichés, Swings and Roundabouts… well here I am, back at the bottom of the swing, or the start of the roundabout – longing for someone to ring me and ask me to come and wash some dishes. I have realised that maybe I am still that 14 year old boy (albeit with a slightly deeper voice and less bumfluffly beard) willing to do literally anything for a bit of money (within reason obviously). I am even willing to face my fear of heights and climb a ladder to paint my parents roof for a few quid.
As I discovered that I may not be employed this summer whilst away from University, another realisation hit home. I worked out that more often than not, mum’s are right in the roundabout sort of way that they say things… I did not realise this the first time I went around the employment roundabout, maybe I was too young and naïve, but in reality mum did know best, she knew that a paper round miles from home was probably not the best idea for her son and it probably was in the best interests of me and not just her. Whilst the majority of the time the excellent advice comes after something has happened like when you fall over “mind the step”, or when you get an electric shock “oops don’t lick that battery”, pretty much more often than not they are right. So many sayings come from them – “save some for a rainy day”, when you are blowing hundreds of pounds a month on DVD’s and Games which at the time make you the dogs gonads, yet how right she was – if I had some money saved I would be fine now…
Rather than saving for an XBOX, this summer I was planning to save ridiculous amounts of money to put towards a house next year… This appears to be on hold for the near future at least but I still need something to keep me going (something small would be enough in my opinion but other people (mum who always seems to be right and girlfriend who IS always right) seem to think that I need a little bit more than that and that a desire to watch the Ashes should not outweigh a desire to earn a bit of cash. Whilst I am not too keen on this they are probably right, so I find myself here flitting between producing a half decent CV and writing this half arsed attempt at a blog.
So I go on this summer, once again with the words of my mother ringing through my head - “Every cloud has a silver lining…”. Well I guess I am about to find out, but lets hope so. And I guess if she turns out to be right again the other saying will be true “always trust your mother”.
Ha, Pedro this is hilareous! Keep them coming!
ReplyDeleteLoved the cricket bat comment!!!
Mum said the same things to me too.. my favourite was "things will all work out in the end". She is always right.. like a strange oracle or something!
Lindsey xx