I’ve been thinking a lot these last few months about all this temp work I’ve been doing for the last year and a half, usually in the form of “why the fuck am I still temping after a year and a half?” I seem to be in something of a groove at the moment – bills need to be paid so I temp, but to actually go and get a permanent full time job (or even a permanent part time one) just seems a leap too far. But I do think that’s what I need for a bit. We’ll see how this develops.
Today was, somewhat tediously, another of those “what the fuck am I doing here?” days. I was sent by the agency to a tyre warehouse in Aston to assist in the unloading of a large delivery of tyres. Interestingly they not only wanted someone who could physically unload tyres from a truck for eight hours (which I can, however unbelievable people who knew me a couple of years back might find that) but also someone who was a bit “switched on”. This was odd because most of the other people who worked there were idiots. Utter morons.
And as I’m standing there watching these baboons exist in front of me, I’m thinking back to this time last Spring when I had a fair bit of temping under my belt, wondering if it’s just me getting less tolerant or if I seem to be working in places where the full timers really are offensively stupid. And looking at it as objectively as I can, I don’t think it’s me.
Thinking about it a little more I remember that, on the whole, the agency didn’t get me much work close to home for the first few months. I’d often be working in the centre of town or at the NEC or somewhere in the South or East that required two bus journeys. Then, last summer, I started getting work on the industrial estate near Perry Barr, which wasn’t so bad as the people who worked there came from all over. Just lately though I’ve been getting work very close to home, and home, as you might well know by now, is Kingstanding, and for a quick primer in all that is Kingstanding I refer you to this and then this, with the rider that while it isn’t actually that bad there’s a hell of a lot of truth there. Okay, it is that bad. When the National Front sticker you noticed on a lamp post by the bus stop (so not exactly out of the way) is still there a week later perfectly intact, you know there’s something ugly going on under the surface.
The difference between a factory in Banbury (where I worked for a bit in 2003) or the rest of Birmingham and one down the road is stunning. Only when you’ve been in the same warehouse as the miscreants who live around here for a day or two can you really understand the frightening truth behind the ever-so-amusing term Chav and realise that it’s all true. All of it.
But I’m digressing, and meandering, and I apologise, unless you like that kind of thing, which I do when others do it, but I understand if you don’t.
Actually, if you do like this sort of thing I heartily recommend Billyworld. He’s a master, and I mean that in the best possible way.
But I have to get to bed. Got to be at a car factory in Solihull tomorrow for 7.30am. At least I know the people there won’t be utter gits, which is something.
(Oh, the tyre warehouse was in Aston, which would invalidate my point were it not that when the biggest idiot of all asked me where I was from and I said Kingstanding he replied “Kingstanding’s cool” and I knew, right there and then, where the day was going.)
Now I’m worried because until now Kingstanding didn’t worry me. Maybe it’s because “our Nana May” (maternal grandmother) lived there until she died in 1957. But we all know deep down that just about every Birmingham suburb has evolved from what it was to what it is. Generally this is due to the huge immigration influx and subsequent diversity that makes Birmingham such an exciting place. I hadn’t really noticed that Kingstanding was white before, perhaps because I am color blind after living in Houston for so many years. And I haven’t stood at a bus stop so I wouldn’t have noticed the National Front stickers. So this comes as a surprise to me. Next time I’ll be sure to but a St. George’s sticker on the back of the car, preferably one that also says “England”.
Every city has its Kingstanding but the sheer size and monotony of the area probably gives it first prize. Incidentally, old photos show that the place was even more monotonous when very few people owned cars and vans and the area was too new to show any variation in decoration and landscaping. One of the Chavtown links mentions stone-cladding. This is more common than you might think in the area. Totally moronic to clad one half of a semi in random pieces of paving stone!
“And as I’m standing there watching these baboons exist in front of me…”
Possibly the best (part of a) sentence you’ve ever written.
I have every sympathy for you Pete. The 2 years I temped (1995 to 1997) in and around Sheffield was the lowest point of my life so far.
It is very negative to say it but one of the lessons I have learnt working in offices and warehouses is how pig ignorant some people are about the simplest of things. Some of them were very nice people mind but they were just so dumb.
…thank you – I think :^)…
Dad: It’s taken me a year to realise the true horror of this place (though I know it’s not just here but in many other suburban areas). At first it was a joke, but that joke is getting less funny.
I think the first clue was the St George flags that went up during the football last year but never reallt came down again.
It should be noted though that this underlying bigotry is not unique to places lik this – it’s just more thick-headed and overt. I may write more about this later. In fact it may become my theme for this year.
Matthew: Thank you – that made my week!
Mikal – the nice ones I don’t mind. Niceness goes a long way. It’s that vein of stupidity that is cruel and unforgiving that gets me. Also, people quite often aren’t as dumb as they make out. A lack of intelligence doesn’t always mean a lack of wisdom, and vice versa.
Billy – You’re welcome. It was a sincere compliment. Your shit makes me piss myself on a regular basis. That too is compliment.