One of the most thrilling responsibilities of my job as car park attendant (weekends only) is checking the stairwells. I’m checking these for blockages, specifically in the form of teenagers who will use this space for “hanging out” away from the eyes of adults. On my first day I was also informed that shagging had occurred in that very stairwell and was given the impression that this sort of disgraceful activity was a regular thing, but as the weekend passed and I found nobody in there at all, let along anyone contemplating carnality, I began to suspect maybe this was a slight exaggeration. Understandable, really, in that nothing exciting tends to happen in a multi story car park so the story about discovering under age sex was bound to become legend. Especially as there appeared to be only one story and the details were somewhat fluid. Last weekend it was three guys and a girl, this weekend only two chaps were involved. But the punchline remained the same: Car park guy: “What the? Okay, move along now” (or words to that effect). Shagging lad: “Can you wait ’til I’ve finished mate?”
So on my first day I was gingerly opening the door, wondering what the hell I would do if I stumbled upon such a scene but soon it became part of the routine. But then, on Saturday afternoon, I approached the stairwell to hear voices, so I took a deep breath and entered, whacking the handle of the door right into the back of a teenage girl. Oops. But then what did she expect leaning against a door like that. I was greeted by about nine teens, the girls all dolled up like Lolita and the boys looking quite shockingly ugly, like teenage boys tend to do. Fags and a bottle of Bacardi were being shared and I felt a little sorry for them since this was obviously the only place they could go to share their fags and drink their Bacardi without being bothered. But it was my job to move them on. Initially we had a stalemate with the girl moaning about her probably bruised back and me just standing there, wondering how I was going to shift them, until I realised I was wearing a large fluorescent jacket and therefore represented authority. Plus my being there kinda ruined the whole hiding from adults thing so as long as I didn’t leave them I’d win. Eventually, after apologising to the girl and explaining that this was an exit and couldn’t be blocked, they asked where they should go, and I was slightly flummoxed. Where could these kids go? I glibly suggested a park bench or bus shelter and a couple of them took the lead and left, saying thanks on their way out. Thanks? What was that all about? I was expecting to be sworn at and maybe subjected to some spit. But then these were Solihull teenagers after all.
This is probably the best thing I have read in all of 2005. Seriously.
I am loving this Car Park series of posts… I particularly like the way these kids had to ask where to move on to – shows a true lack of initiative! What on earth do they teach them in schools nowadays!? But I was touched that they thanked you for the advice. Pure class Pete keep em coming.
(your stalker in Sydney)
I have a stalker in Sydney! Go me!
I assume you’re familiar with my other posts about odd temping jobs. There are a good couple of years worth…
I could tell you some stories about car park stairways, but they involve human shit and empty cider bottles and the smell of piss and dog shit and hypodermic needles and blood.And this in a carpark in one of the most affluent areas of the country if house prices are anything to go by.
I did the Solihull carpark thing about 20 years ago – minus the fags though. If you’re working this sunday we’ll wave hello if you like as we usually pass through Solihull on the day of rest.
Been on both sides in this scenario. Will skip the sordid details as I’m quite sure there are readers with ‘delicate’ sensibilities. The thanks bit could be about a) you not having been a jerk/morally high-handed about it, b) for actually engaging in conversation, because for kids, this is real life, and where to do it is a substantive concern, or c) as you say, just because they’re from Solihull.
As for where they could go, you could ask them to reel off some criteria. But pragmatically, what they want is no wind, some quiet, something to lean against or sit on, and, being from Solihull, preferably near a bus, a shop/burger joint, or local nightlife. So many of these places are obvious (subways, bridges, …), and they’ll already know what’s available. But they may have missed something. For example, sometimes heat vents from shopping centres are nice places to hang out. College campus?
It would be interesting to hear more from them. Good opportunity to look into questions around disaffected yoof.