Thursday 4 February 2010

Room 101

Day: 1billion and twelve
Job offers: Zero
Outlook: Bleak

It's 10am. Job centre. Perv guy waits outside. Slouched against grey stone, puffs of white smoke trickle between a crooked yellow smile as he nods in my direction. I wince and walk inside.

Level One. The swarm of unemployed builds. We look like normal people and yet underneath our soft human skin there lies a bitter soul, hopeless, seething. The smell of vodka and shampoo overwhelms. It mixes with damp clinging to a worn leather jacket on bony shoulders. I shuffle away with an awkward smile. The kid behind glares up with demon eyes black and clicks a tune with his tongue. I throw evils in his direction. He clicks faster, louder. My nails dig a deep crescent pattern into my palms.

Later, name called, I sit as the woman types quickly without looking at me; her fingers heavy and pronounced on every letter. Keyboard clicks, tongue clicks. Head hurts. Her pupils flit over my form once before she signs in hurried blue strokes.

'Can I ask you a question?'
The woman sighs, head cocked to one side.
'If you must...'
'Well...' I struggle to find the least offensive words. Inside, my bitter self sharpens her bite, ready to lunge.
'Look, I haven't got all day.'

The clock says 10.30am. Clearly she's lying.

'Do I get any guidance at some point?'
'What do you mean?'
'You know, do I get to chat with someone about my prospects or potential job avenues?'
'What do you think this is?' She lifts eyebrows to furrowed skin.
'Well, you're just showing me a computer screen of jobs. I can do this at home, online.'
'Go do it then.'
She pushes my form towards me and shouts 'next' over my shoulder. Demon child pokes his tongue as I stagger away.

Floating downstairs, my eyes sting. I refuse to let them win, and battle with my lids to keep them open, to stop the flow. Outside I gasp air and let its crispness flood my lungs, clear my head. I shake myself and walk away, leaving the dreaded place behind. I do not look back. Until next time.

13 comments:

  1. Lou, maybe that ole lady thinks that is her answer for a "bail" out plan

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  2. You are a stunning and clever writer. Someday, you'll write a best selling novel Stay with your writing.

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  3. Lou, that sounds tough. Hope things look up on the job front.

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  4. You will channel it into your poetry. You have that. Most of the others in that room with you are not so fortunate.

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  5. Very compelling prose!

    Sorry people are such jerks, and good luck with your job search.

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  6. I know exactly how you feel on the job search, though I am amazed you got someone behind the desk that could type fast. My job centre only seem to have people who have a type speed of five words per minute.

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  7. Never has being unemployed sounded so hopeless yet so eloquent all at once. You are an amazing scribe, Lou.
    Check out my latest - I ended up in bed with Rapunzel!
    plentymorefishoutofwater.blogspot.com

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  8. You write so beautifully Lou. It won't be long before you're out of that world and then all this stuff will just be stories.

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  9. Not a single soul in that room can write like you. Hang in there. Good things are going to happen to you.

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  10. Ouch that sounds so hard. I am wishing you all the luck. You are a great writer good things will come.

    Kate xx
    http://secretofficeconfessions.blogspot.com

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  11. Wow. Thanks for all the support everyone! When i write about the job difficulties, these comments mean even more to me. I suppose it gives me a feeling akin to hope.

    Thank you :) x

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  12. Piss off Troll. Not wanted here, thanks.

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