The World's Longest CV - Part 2, A scholars ruin.
If you haven't yet read my post The World's Longest CV - Part 1 then I suggest you have a look before going any farther. We left off at the end of my school years working for a well known fashion retailer and my inability to fit in seamlessly with the rest of the women that worked there. In Part 2 I basically threw away the need to be accepted in the female workplace and explored stranger more bicycle related pastures.
This position I held for around six months or so. It was mind-numbingly boring which in itself made the job incredibly difficult. Call after call I would try to encourage an unsuspecting member of the public to take a survey on behalf of one of our clients and most of the time I would be met with abuse or a dial tone. We once had to ask a bunch of Mancunians their thoughts on a possible congestion charge, i'll let you imagine how that went. A highlight was using my time there reading the scripts to Peep Show seasons 1-5 and imagining it as the show. That, and eating Chinese take away for lunch pretty much every day.
I essentially recorded receipts and takings at the end of the working day and assisted on the shop floor for a well known bicycle retailer. I acquired my first useless bunch of knowledge pertaining to cycling. As someone living in a constant state of crisis, my boss at the time and I decided to mutually end my position, he was a ledge. He gave me doughnuts. Charity Phone Chugger
We have a long stretch now between my last position and this wonderful two week stint in Dalston, predominantly due to University and me living like the kid from Home Alone during my first year there. My best friend and I met in University, living across the hall from one another. We recognised each others accents almost instantly as from being around the area we grew up - to be fair there are only two types of farmer accent and I'm not from the west country. We both needed help paying rent and spent the majority of the fortnight being moaned at for 'upwards-deflecting' (which is basically for having an accent) and calling people to donate money to whichever the charity of choice was that day. I hated it there but the pay was the best id ever had. We were immorally asking old dears who were donating £99 per month to increase their donation and in hindsight the way I left was sort of a blessing. One day getting the overground I was adamant (and still am) that I was being followed by three people, one of which look like a bad doppelganger of Lil Wayne. Of course this excuse for being late, as I legged it down Finchley Road to the relative safety of the nearest Sainsburys, was taken with a very large pinch of salt and I was asked not to return.
(Above - Me in 2010. I mean, who wouldn't want to hire this right?)
Retail bike lady
This next job came a while after the chugger escapade. My mum came down to visit me and decided that it would be a great idea if we gave my CV out to every establishment that would take it in Camden. Her logic was pretty sound, I mean I like Camden so a job there would be fun right? Well, I had only walked 100 yards down the road and my boss (later to become a very good mate) offered me a job selling and advising customers on bikes. I still didn't own a bike and hadn't for years but somehow inner tubes and derailleurs were my calling. That was until I was dumped by my then boyfriend and spent everyday reading motivational leaflets and crying in the staff room. I don't take rejection lightly.
Retail bike lady x 2
As we established in my previous post I don't seem to learn from my mistakes and went for a job in a bike shop in Spitalfields. Three shifts this one lasted. Three shifts. To be fair I refused to go back because they kept their bikes in the basement and I was told off when I had difficulty getting them up the stairs to the shop floor, without dropping them or injuring myself. For this one I totally blame the fat bearded man who was mean to me...
When you are University, the likelihood is that you will be bombarded by companies employing hoards of students as casual staff to work around the city. The job was tiring and the hours were long but the pay was competitive (people like to say that in job adverts don't they). I worked for about a week in the champagne tent at Lords Cricket Ground. I was obviously way too lower class to be in there and one table exclaimed 'oh it's like being in America!' when I spoke to them. I worked at Twickenham in a box watching England v Wales and was literally paid to pour Carling out of cans into people's cup's. What a life 'eh. In the champagne hut at Goodwood Festival of Speed I lost steam and spent the day outside polishing cutlery and at Goodwood racecourse served the table, oddly, of Billie Piper. At the time I was pretty sure she stared me down and saw straight into the nervousness of my soul, but in hindsight she was probably wondering who the weirdo farmer child was wobbling their food all over the place.
Music Venue Bar Staff
This was the last job I had whilst working in London. I moved home and left University in an attempt to save a failing relationship but that's a story for another time. This was one of the most enjoyable jobs that I've ever had. Some of the bands that I saw were awesome and whilst they played we were pretty much able to watch from the back as there would be no customers at the bar. Little innocent 'cough' me once met a booking manager for a band playing there and I became so overwhelmed that I went out into the cellar and sat on a keg and cried. I can be very pure sometimes. Alas I had to leave to come back to my hometown which brings me to the end of Part 2. In Part 3 I grow up a little but let's not kid ourselves, that's never going to happen fully.