Gizza Job

 

Remember Yosser Hughes from the BBC drama Boys from the Blackstuff? I know, I know, I'm showing my age! Anyway, it all came back to me today when I paid a visit to the Job Centre.

I suppose I'd better start by squashing the beginning of any rumour that I went in there seeking work. Instead, I'd like to think it was all part of my quest to explore new places in retirement, even if I did feel like an impostor.

I have to say, it was significantly plusher than I imagined although it wasn't quite like a hotel lobby even if I was met by a doorman (aka security guard) who showed me to a vacant couch (not hard seat) whilst he disappeared to find somebody to assist.

Sitting there, I began to realise how  open I am to subliminal messaging. Exploring the notices and flyers on the coffee table in front of me, I became intrigued at the idea of having a work coach not to mention stopping smoking (I've never actually started but the classes sounded interesting).

Then there were the other members of the public who presented as a decent, well-mannered section, not at all like the benefit scroungers some of the tabloids might have you believe. As for the staff, a very efficient but friendly lady was assigned to help, no doubt delighting in the fact that I wasn't there in a desperate attempt to secure employment. She was still smiling at the end of my session, even after I had surely caused her to suffer writer's cramp as she signed and dated 30 sheets of documents that she had also photocopied for me after another section of the Department for Work and Pensions had written requesting me to submit copies of Powers of Attorney for my mother through their local office.

To be fair the palaver in doing so was quite astonishing, bearing in mind that the government has managed to set up a well oiled system whereby you simply log in to procure a code to give a third party, be they bank or other body, evidence of the existence of the powers.  Unfortunately this ease of processing hasn't extended to passing the information from one government department to another. I'd even naively thought that if they couldn't just click a box on the computer to confirm sight of the original paperwork then they would at least scan it. No, in the interests of efficiency or lack of it, everything had to be copied and then posted (no internal delivery channel) to an office in Wolverhampton.

I was there for approximately 40 minutes. Consequently I was grateful that the ambience was pleasant and there hadn't been a rush of  job seekers who may have taken priority. That said, I couldn't help having a Gizza Job moment, not because I've reached an awful stage of retirement where the thought of returning to the workplace excites but rather because, with the passing time, I fell into a form of reverie where I dreamt of a time and motion study, the introduction of modern technology and a barista coffee to place on that little table in front of me.

Image by xuefei wang from Pixabay