Sadly, it seems that the greeter at the front desk has started to tire of my new face and, instead of asking me to take a seat or go on the jobpoint, this time I was greeted with 'go on the jobpoint'.
Then, I looked through a pile of jobs for HGV drivers and teachers that I had already looked at that morning, until my cheerful advisor called me over ten minutes later.
I had been told that the point of my visit today was to look at my situation and also my CV in more depth and improve the latter. What actually happened was that the advisor went over basic things, such as which line of work I was in/looking for, he then told me about some websites and advised me to go to a church close by which houses a careers service called 'The Works'. They would help me better than he could, he informed me, as his job is far too diversified for him to sit and concentrate for long on the intricacies of one persons' CV.
"You should go there tomorrow" he advised me.
OK. "Do I need an appointment?" I asked.**
"No", he answered. "You do not".
"There is a woman there who is lovely, she is great at advice, they will revise and re-work your CV so it markets you better. It is run by recruitment professionals under the guidance of Manchester University," he added.
New task: To locate and visit 'the Works', inside a local church about 20 minutes' walk from my house. Next appointment to 'sign on': Wednesday 21st November. Ok.
JobCentre aggro is certainly one of the few things you can reply upon to brighten your trip to the church of depression and yet again, there was a nice example on my second visit to the establishment.
As I walked inside, I noticed a woman looking a bit stressed standing at the doorway, not so much rocking a pram back and forth as looking as though she was in training for a ram-raid operation. She was smoking a fag with a look of fury on her face, although this may have been the scraped-back hairdo distorting her facial expressions. Severe. Anyway, I found myself hoping that the fag was helping her out and making her feel a bit better from whatever seemed to have pissed her off so extremely. I can now sympathise that the JobCentre severely tests the old patience at times.
However, as I was chatting to my advisor about my ineffective CV, I heard her shouting at the security guards "AM I GOING TO FLUSH MY HEAD DOWN THE TOILET, IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK I'M GONNA DO?! IS IT?!" I think she had used the toilet 'without permission' and had been put in her place.
I wonder....were they afraid that she would do this:
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| Fact: people on benefits with small children ruthlessly destroy toilets. |
Or this:
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| The image possibly harboured by JobCentre security guards |
"WHAT HAPPENS IF I JUST GO OVER THERE RIGHT NOW AND USE THE TOILET AGAIN? WILL YOU THROW ME OUT?" She continued.
That's a pretty reasonable question. Especially coming from a woman with a small child. Can you use the toilet in the JobCentre?
Maybe this is a mission of discovery that can keep me busy during my next visit.
Signing on,
YAC.
**I find it highly unlikely that I can just walk in without an appointment to something like this - lets see what happens.
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