My first day at the new school.

This morning started smoothly, I got my clothes and stuff ready last night, set my alarm nice and early, and was washed then out the door with plenty of time to spare. This probably had to do with all the schools being closed and plenty of people staying at home because of the met office issuing a red alert about winds today, officially reaching speeds of up to Fucking Rapid in and around Central Scotland. As is our way it was promptly named it “Hurricane Bawbag” because fuck you weather. So the roads were much quieter than usual, and I got there over half an hour earlier than I was meant to. Cue me sitting listening to the radio about how most of the country has decided to take the day off and god forbid if you usually use a bridge to go anywhere. It couldn’t last though, and with around fifteen minutes to spare I walked across to the building. Then I saw it.

That cheap shitty little car, there are many others like it but this one had a vibe, an honest to God aura of stay-the-fuck-away. I couldn’t quite place it, why was this car getting my hackles up? I couldn’t see who was inside it, so I carried on and went into the reception, putting it out of my mind. There were a lot more people there than I was expecting, over thirty in all, I was figured there’d be maybe five or so. After standing around for five minutes doing the looking at various things on my phone that strangers do so they don’t have to make idle pointless chit-chat the front door opened again, and I realised who that car parked outside belonged to. It was that not entirely single lassie’s from a month or so back, and her boyfriend was standing right in front of me, gangly as fuck, greasy ponytail halfway down his back, and a green anorak three sizes too big. Did he know? Was he mad? Was he liable to kick off? After a while I figured it was maybe, most likely if knew, and not if he was sensible respectively.

The woman who I had the one-on-one interview with appeared and read out a large list of names, his being among them. All in there were fifteen or so of us, with only one woman. Figured as much. We were lead down some stairs, then some more stairs, and finally into a windowless room that was far too hot with not enough chairs. Somehow felt fitting for tech support. After a while tentative curiosity about how that lassie’s guy would act turned to apathy when it became obvious that he was more of the whingeing name calling type than anyone liable to simply throw a punch. Re-enact Columbine on the other hand…

Overall the people there seem fairly normal, though with the legally required portion of oddballs that anything to do with computers attracts from the looks of it. When we went to get pictures taken for the security badges they handed us the blank white holder, leading one guy to make a song and dance about it being like Doctor Who’s psychic paper. It’s bad enough that I know what the fuck he was talking about, but for fuck sake mate keep it quiet! Another guy was around five feet tall, completely spherical, godawful teeth, and balding with spots on his head. He could’ve been anywhere from early twenties to mid thirties. I talked with him a bit and he seems nice enough, but life has kicked him at every turn. Aside from them there’s a couple of Indian guys that’ve banded together straight away, three other guys who were all in some sort of military, and a middle-aged woman that I can see myself having some seriously guilty wanks over if I hit another dry spell. There was also a black guy that I’ve decided to name Moss, mainly because of his hair rather than any other similarity to the IT Crowd character I’ll admit. If he was white he’d be sporting a bowl cut, though having said that he shares my name, so he’s obviously going to be the soundest one there. Aside from them everyone else was fairly normal, not including Cho in the making of course.

The place itself wasn’t very remarkable: one entrance for visitors, another for workers, a big battery farm with phones as the main attraction and a small canteen downstairs. It’s… a workplace I guess. The dress code isn’t very strict, jeans and trainers. No trackies, no football colours. Or rugby colours either for some reason, I’ve never heard of anyone mention it before now. They’re big on the whole data security thing too, seemed to really make a big deal about being able to search through your phone thoroughly if they want to, or even your car if it’s parked on their property. I think I’ll keep on parking in the little scheme across the road, quicker than getting in and out of the car park in the first place, plus I’m kind of a stickler for people not nosing through my shit. I get the need for confidentiality, but I’m not getting searched for a job like this. Not until I’ve taken a decent picture of my cock with “Fuck you” written down the shaft first.

Aside from informing us of the joys of cavity searches, we didn’t do much else apart from sign a few forms and go over the rules, no answering phones or anything. We got away an hour or so early because of the weather, and I’m in again the same time tomorrow. I’m trying to keep in a good mindset about it. The people are friendly, nobody looks extremely annoying or nasty, it’s not a concentration camp, and the toilets are relatively clean. It is my first proper inside job, I’m used to noise and animals and travelling and swearing and constant hangovers and machinery and swearing. Now I feel like I’m going to wake up and find myself neutered, turned into an indoor cat without even realising it. Around one o’clock or so I had an urge to just get out and do some fucking graft, proper hard tiring work that left you exhausted at the end of the day rather than sitting around on my arse.

I’m being a moany faced cunt I know, I remember being the same when I started the landscaping and it kicked shit out of me, then I grew to really enjoy it, hopefully this’ll be the same. Even if I don’t like the work, I’ll get to know the people, that’s what makes a job good after all.

Meow?