Typical really. I decide I’m not going to write about work anymore and I start writing about work. A few interesting comments today. Firstly I was asked, in a friendly way, if I was of Mediterranean descent, which was kinda flabbergasting. I’m not an expert on my family history in all branches but I’m pretty sure it’s al tediously northern-European, at least for the last 4 or 5 generations. I’m not even that well tanned this year, having had few outdoor jobs, so god knows where the guy (north-African Arabic as it happens) got that idea from. Easy to chalk it down to basic fuckwittage but I’ve never really had my ethnicity questioned before. The factory is very multi-cultural and not in that subtle racist way I’ve seen where the white guys supervise the black guys – everyone’s mixed in so I guess where your family is from, be it Nigeria or Sutton Coldfield, is a regular talking point.
Later, and again in a friendly way, it was pointed out that I didn’t really belong there, the question being why was someone like me doing a job like this. This seems to be happening a lot lately so maybe I’m giving off some “I don’t belong here” vibes without realising it. Doubly odd as I was thinking I could hack this job for a month or so (once I get used to the stupid shifts…). I rattled out the usual answer – I don’t want a full-time job, I have no family commitments so I can live off less, I like being able to take time off when I want, that kind of stuff, but that just reinforces the fact that I’m really just passing through.
Finally, and in a departure from the usual “are you a student” line, I was asked if I was an artist because I looked like one. Bear in mind I’m wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of paint-splattered combats which I think make me look like a labourer. Maybe they actually make me look like an artist or maybe I’m just giving off some kind of bohemian aura. I was slightly chuffed at this, to be honest, but then I’ve dressed like this for years and tend to hang out with artists be they in comics or music. It’d be more interesting if I got this response wearing company overalls but they generally don’t give them to temps.
This 6am-2pm shift is really doing my head it and it’s not just me. The full-timers hate it too but it’s probably the only way you can divide the day into three shifts, 6-2, 2-10 and 10-6, and still have people able to get to work via public transport. As expected I was knackered a few hours into work and the time dragged like an old dog. I felt as if I would fall over at times with sheer exhaustion just from standing there (no sitting even when the production line crawls to a halt) but made it to the end of the day. Then, on getting home, I kinda woke up a bit and did some emailing, finally crashing at 5pm. Despite only having had 8 hours sleep since Sunday afternoon I woke up at 9pm again because that’s what my body does. Today (being Thursday, I think) is going to be nasty…
Had a similar thing happen to me before stopping work at my last school. We had a German supply teacher in, and while I was washing my hands he walked into the staff loos and proceeded to ask me if I had any German ancestors. I told him no, but he became quite animated about it and real insistent that I should ask at home.
I know I don’t have German ancestors going back as far as I am able, though of course being a member of the mongrel race we Brits are it is possible. Just weird this bloke was so insistent. Still teachers are weird. Supply teachers the weirdest. Shit. I’m a supply teacher as of September. Bugger.
I remember when I worked as a parking warden for the council. The job often turned more into a mobile tourist information centre given that I was working in one of englands more historical cities. On more than one occasion a lost american tourist though I was from New Zealand because of my accent. My accent? I don’t really have one. I was born in Essex but moved to hampshire when I was 6. None of my family are ‘hampshire born and bred’ so we all have a very neutral accent. In fact I find (as Pete describes) that I can often mimic the accent and speech paterns of the people around me, a sort of chameleon accent.
I can only presume that americans are mostly exposed to the ‘Hugh Grant’ english accent and so when they encounter a ‘real’ brit they get a bit confused. I in turn would probably have real problems identifying which state a person came from.