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Short Leg

  Sat 31st August 2024

When I went on holiday to France in July, I had abandoned any hope of getting further with a job application for trainee guard, and had forgotten about making up some bullshit about why someone residing in Bristol is applying for a job in Yorkshire.



To my surprise, my application was "progressed" (maybe in a few years it'll be "grown"), and I was invited to take a computer-based test which involves identifying particular non-geometric shapes from rows of similar ones, which the Department of Transport Logistics Delivery Resources Solutions Management at Swindon University Institute has shown to be a reliable indicator of whether you can be helpful and polite to a disabled person as you're fixing the ramp and wheeling them onto a train.

I have never passed this test, in several attempts. Fortunately our semi-adopted daughter offered to do it for me. She took the test in the bright Breton sunshine, submitted the results, and a few days later I was invited for interview. After the interview ("Why are you the outstanding candidate for this job?" I'm not outstanding, what a fucking stupid question), I prematurely started looking for flats on wrongmove.

I must have created quite an impression on them, because after an 11am interview they emailed at 4pm to tell me that I hadn't got it.

For a few days it's quite depressing; the rejection like feels like that you experience during online dating. This is the fifth time I've got that far and failed at the final hurdle. I come across better on paper than in real life. But maybe sixth time lucky: I've another interview on Friday, in Bristol this time.


I had a sporting time last weekend. My brother bought me a birthday present ticket to day two of England v Sri Lanka at Old Trafford, then the following day me and the youngest, together with Shrimpy, went to Doncaster to see Morecambe lose 1-0.

At the station on the way down I bumped into a woman I used to work with in a pizza place thirty-five years ago. She was with her husband and her daughter, who remembered going to dance classes with mine in a cold, derelict premises with some sort of old Victorian iron press thing in the corner.

The mother is round my age and still very attractive, with this underplayed, unintentionally sexy smile and physical calm, which is unaltered from when I was watching her waitressing as I was doing the washing-up.

When we got into the taxi at Donny to take us to the ground, the taxi driver said "is that the railway station?" Our goalkeeper gifted them the goal by fannying about with the ball just outside the penalty area rather than deploying a good old-fashioned Fourth Division hoof up the pitch.

On the Sunday I had a couple in my Lancaster local, where I met an eighty-eight-year-old man who told me he'd have to have his todger cut off because he got cancer in it. "They call me Stumpy now."

6 comments »

6 comments

Comment from: monkeyman [Visitor]

I thought you meant “security guard” for a moment.

Sat 31st August 2024 @ 23:31 Reply to this comment
Comment from: [Member]

Well we had to ask the lad in the hi-vis there, who was providing the security for us insecure types, to move for a rare moment of Morecambe goalmouth action. We told him he could move back in a minute.

Sat 31st August 2024 @ 23:38 Reply to this comment
Comment from: kono [Visitor]

I often wonder if we weren’t separated at birth? lol! i too have often had the experience of getting quite far in the interview process only to be told that i didn’t get it, at least when it came to “real jobs", any lumpen-prole grunt position i managed to get without a problem…

“deploying the good old fourth division hoof up the pitch…” i love it! every time i see a keeper make a mess of it by dicking around with the ball i lose my mind, WTF is he thinking!! is usually what i’m thinking, i do like Shrimpy though :) and my Palace finally got a point off the Rent Boys after a couple of uninspiring performances…

i hate running into women from the past… especially when they’re attractive and fit… mainly cuz i got a dirty mind ;)

Mon 2nd September 2024 @ 12:48 Reply to this comment
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

The whole palarver is made more frustrating because there;s some weird rule in the railway industry that you don’t get feedback, so I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I think I’m apt to ramble on a bit, that might be the problem. Just stick to the point.

Shrimpy’s ace isn’t he. He’s quite popular on the terraces.

The woman from my past is fucking gorgeous – but I’ve found this often, that a woman who’s good looking at twenty will remain so at sixty. I only wish the weather had been hotter so she could have dispensed with the coat. Right I’ll stop here…:)

Mon 2nd September 2024 @ 15:30 You are currently replying to this comment
Comment from: Scarlet [Visitor]

Good luck for the Bristol interview!
I wonder if the woman from the past is aware of the effect she has on you?
Sx

Thu 5th September 2024 @ 12:13 Reply to this comment
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

It’s difficult isn’t it, gauging the effect one has long others?

I’ll find out about the interview on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Fri 6th September 2024 @ 12:17 Reply to this comment


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M / 60 / Bristol, "the most beautiful, interesting and distinguished city in England" -- John Betjeman [1961, source eludes me].

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