Brain Salad Surgery - courtesy of the DWP

"Benny was a bouncer at the Palais de Dance"

Now that I have officially joined the ranks of the unemployed, I thought I'd better make it truly official and sign on at my local job centre. When we were told that redundancy was on the cards, my employers arranged for a member of the local Job Centre team to come in and talk to us about the process. 

It was an interesting presentation, to say the least. The speaker spoke eloquently from the PowerPointless presentation, occasionally telling us things that we couldn't read for ourselves.  Her care and attention, given the sensitive and, for some, traumatic situation that many of the audience faced, was startlingly exhibited when, a few minutes into the presentation, her phone rang.  Hardly missing a beat she  apologised, she thought her phone was on silent, and then, proving that she could multi-task, proceeded to fiddle with her phone controls whist still delivering her well rehearsed lines. We felt so important!

So, when the time came last week, I made the trip into Winchester to begin the process of 'signing on'.  I was considerate of creating the right image and so chose to take the bus into the city, rather than drive a shiny Land Rover. I even thought about taking Inca with me on a piece of string with a bandana around his neck, but thought better of conforming to stereotype. 

On arriving at the Job Centre, I was greeted by a bouncer, 'Benny', in a G4S uniform - that's why they couldn't find enough staff for the Olympics! They are too busy guarding DWP buildings against the great unwashed. He was about 60 years old, six foot square and built like the proverbial brick house for the purpose of defecation. As I approached, he stood in front of me in a well trained, non-verbal signal of passive offensive. Looking me up and down, I expected him to say 'ugg', but instead was met with 'can I 'elp you?', in his best attempt at Wintonian.

I looked at the empty reception desk and quickly realised that this was going to be my first challenge. 

"He'd slash your granny's face up given half a chance"

'Yes. Well, I don't have a job and would like to register for Job Seekers Allowance.' I said, in my smartest Essex.

'You will 'ave to go on the inter web and fill in a form. Or you can phone, using your telephone, and speak to...someone.'

'Can't I speak with...someone now?'

'No! I will give you this 'ere bit of paper that 'as the netweb had-dress and telephone number. You has to do it that way ferse.'

I thought about taking issue, but, as my neck was already aching from looking up, I thought better of it and left Benny to his guard post.

"He'd sell you back the pieces, all for les than half a quid"

At home, I duly logged on and completed the application form. In fairness, it was quick and simple enough. A few days later I received a text inviting me to attend an interview at the aforementioned Job Centre. 

On the assigned day, clean shaven and in smart(ish) clothes, I arrived back at the Job Centre. Benny is again guarding the foyer. Even though there is now a very smiley looking woman sitting at reception, Benny intercepts me before I am able to start any dialogue with her. 

'Can we 'elps you, sir?' at least I get a 'sir' this time.

'Yes, thank you, I have an appointment.'

'Name?'

'I'm sorry I wasn't given a name, just a time.'

'No, your name!' Opps! I tell him my name.

He runs a rather large finger down the list on his clipboard.

'You're not on the list'

'I am quite early'

Again he scans the list, lips moving to the rhythm of each new line!

'Ah! Yes 'ere you are. I'll go tell 'im you're 'ere.'

Benny heads off in search of ''im' - sparks emanating from his knuckles as they drag along the nylon carpet.

Seconds later he returns and invites me to take a seat.

 "He thought he was the meanest - until he met with Savage Sid"

While I'm waiting, Benny's twin brother, Sid, turns up. They have symmetrical broken noses and so, standing next to each other, look like they are avoiding the odour of anyone standing in front of them. After about 15 minutes, a voice behind me calls

'Mister...Moon?'

 "Now Sidney was a greaser with some nasty roots"

'Yes! That's me'

'Please take a seat'. I sit in front of the young man's desk.

'My name is Derek. I'm not conducting your interview. I'm just going to check your identity.' 

I freeze, I've just realised, I left my passport at home. I have no positive ID.

'I'm really sorry, but I've brought all sorts of paperwork with me, but I left my passport at home'

'Do you have anything with your name and address?

'I have a print out of my Job Seekers Allowance application form.'

'That'll do.' First hurdle leapt like an Olympian!

 "He poured a pint of guinness over Benny's boots"

'I'll now take you to the staircase as you will have to go upstairs to have your interview.'

'Thank you.'

Derek then shows me to the staircase that is conveniently signed 'Stairs' with a further notice saying 'application interviews - first floor.' Thank god for Derek, I don't know how I would have managed on my own.

At the bottom of the staircase, Derek points to the door at the top and tells me 'you need to go up the stairs and through that door and ask for Alice' 

I am soooo tempted to ask the obvious question!

 "Benny looked at Sidney - Sidney stared right back in his eye."

On the other side of the door, I meet Benny again. I smile, thinking he will have recognised me. 

'Can I 'elp you?'

'Thank you. I have an appointment with Alice.'

'Alice? Who the...' no he didn't, but I was wishing he would.

'Take a seat and I'll tell 'er you're 'ere.' 

I sit.

When I eventually get to meet Alice, she is great! She asks me what I did, how much I earned, what I wanted to do and how much I would like to earn! She was straight forward, honest and helpful. At last! She obviously had to go through certain set procedures, but I was treated as an intelligent, professional person. The only let down, and not Alice's fault I'm sure, was when she handed me a form to sign and, after reading it, I instinctively found myself proofing it, circling three typos and changing an 'i.e.' to an 'e.g.' before scribbling my name at the bottom. Old habits die hard - dyslexic I may be, but I can still spot someone else's bad writing! (just not my own).

"Sidney chose a switchblade and Benny got a cold meat pie."

So, job (or jobless) done! The bizarre thing is, I probably won't be eligible for Job Seeker's allowance anyway! But, it gave me something to write about.

Special thanks to Emerson, Lake and Palmer for the inspirational lyrics - "Benny the Bouncer"! and apologies to the DWP for a slightly apocryphal blog!!

The things one does with spare time!

I've just spent an interesting couple of hours chiseling chewing gum from the underside of redundant school science bench worktops! You might ask 'why' was I doing this? But don't, that bit isn't in the least interesting.  Suffice it to say that it needed doing!


The 'interesting' bit was what I learnt, or re-learnt, by doing the activity!


Lesson One - Science


The adhesive properties of chewing gum are astounding. After only a few days being stacked, some of the worktops needed to be prised apart using a crowbar. The net result of this was that I rapped my knuckles on the brick wall behind the desks and simultaneously brused my ribs as the wooden worktop was thrust, under my own weight, into my chest - thus proving (I think) Newton's second law of physics!


These desks have been out of circulation for about a year and, I'm guessing, some of the gum was deposited many years before.  Although the gum appeared to have gone quite solid, it would seem that, with only a small amount of pressure, its chemical balance shifts so that it softens just enough to form a new bond with whatever is lent against it.


In an equally fascinating discovery, I found that solid gum, once removed from its adherent surface and allowed to fall onto a dry floor, regains its elastic state so that it can re-attach itself to, for example, a passing shoe with the same verve.  In fact, I began to suspect that this gum had at least semi-biological properties as it appeared to move itself into places that had been clear of stickiness when I had last looked.


Lesson Two - History


I understand that these worktops have probably been in the same school for maybe 40 years or more. Even a cursory glance at the engravings, writings and drawings, acid burns, scorch marks and pitted surfaces, begins to unveil a picture of the generations of children who have sat or stood by these desks over the decades. Each succession of pupils learning important lessons such as 'How high will an up-turned petri dish fly if you fill it with gas from the bunsen burner and then set light to it?' and 'Will a single drop of sulphuric acid burn its way through both my pencil case and Kevin's new digital calculator?'


One person seemed to be using the time to revise for their history test about King Cnut.


Lesson Three - English


There were several reminders of the english alphabet to be seen in working language.  One example contained all of the letters in the correct sequence, all 25 (?) - who ever uses 'Q' anyway! One subscriber had presumably spent much of a lesson refining his skill in spelling the 'C' word - only getting it right six times out of seven (unless he was referring the same history test - see above). Possibly this was the person called Tom, who had to practice writing his own name four times!


However, the most impressive was the conjugation of the verb 'F**k' in the past perfect! Who ever said a comprehensive education was a waste of time!!


There is also one nod to English Literature.  In a clear reference to William Golding's 'Lord of the Flies', someone has etched 'Save Piggy!'


Lesson Four - Geography


Obviously Peruvian Studies must have been a part of curriculum at some point.  This is evidenced by the Nazca like scoring across many of the work tops.  No doubt etched with head firmly placed in the crook of an elbow, laid on the table top, so as to gain an authentic 'ground level' view as would have been the case for the Nazca people.


Lesson Five - Social & Gender Studies and Communication


There were the usual and ubiquitous declarations of love, friendship and distain, as well as random messages and references.  The gender of the writer could often be guessed by the style of entry:
Kirsty [heart] Sebastian
Melissa [arrow through heart] Cam
Georgina [two arrows through red heart] Oliver Sebastian (poor Oly, luck Seb!)
Smiffys [sic] a twat
Louis like willys [sic]
You smell! Ha ha!
Science is ........ ( I can't work out if the number of dots relates to a specific word)


Lesson Six - Art


Ah yes! What is it about teenagers that they need to depict male genitalia at any and all opportunity? By far the most prevalent artistic image is the caricatured interpretation of a penis. Graphically obvious though somewhat anatomically incorrect, these drawings are frequently cunningly disguised as a wide-eyes smiley face!

There are some quite well draw cartoon images as well. Along with a couple of outlined hands, one depicting painted nails and sporting a ruby on the ring finger - Georgina perhaps? 


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So that was my morning! A snapshot of life in a Winchester comprehensive and a reminder of my own youth, to a degree, if I'm honest. 


In the interest of safety and security and to protect the innocent (Ha, yeah!) I won't mention which school these desks came from. But, thank you to Michael, they have made me laugh. Once sold, the proceeds will be making their way back into the state education system to support the next generation of little darling's learning experience.


Don't forget, one of them could end up as your Prime Minister!!