it is with a heavy heart and bitter-sweet emotions i have to announce that, as from 7am saturday 2nd april i will no longer be employed at what i have always refered to as “the paid job”.
i’ve never NOT said i work for tesco, just never made a big deal of it. i am not ashamed of working for them. i won’t deny that some of the decisions of the company are at odds with my politics, but i much prefer to keep work and home/social/political life totally exclusive. now i am nothing near daft enough to think that such issues that cause upset are decided at store level. so as such, morally i have no issue working for them. that and the fact that i have for nigh on TWENTY EIGHT YEARS, since i was a nipper.
anyway, back to the point.
as you may have seen recently in the news, around 75 or so stores are to cease 24 hour trading. unfortunately ours is on that list. as such, my job role is no more. i have been offered other position in our store and at other stores, but sadly no full time positions are available at this time. (like most retailers these days it seems full time jobs don’t exist).
another option was redundancy.
now with 28 years behind me as well as my age you can imagine the package offered was very decent. for all the constant slagging off the company gets, in the main, they DO know how to treat staff. they looked after me fourteen years ago when i had my accident and was off for 12 months.
myself and The Enemy have spent the last few weeks talking it all through (talking about bugger all else to be fair) and we decided that redundancy was the way to go. and so it is. i have six weeks left. then for the first time since leaving school i will be jobless.
i have plans. i won’t become a man of leisure just yet. but i AM having a good few weeks off. going to spend the quality time with The Enemy and Boy that i have missed by being on nights for the last 10 years, and get used to daylight again. also crack on with the handful of poems i have started and stalled on. maybe even finally learn to play my melodica (and if allowed, buy a trombone and learn that)
so there you have it. it’s official now and i wanted you all to know. if i have seemed distant and not entirely fun in the last month, this may go some way to explaining it. i apologise to anyone who may feel i have been ignoring them, i swear i meant nothing personal by it. also apologise for the lack of radio shows. that too shall be addressed very soon.
anyone who needs a loyal, trustworthy, fun employee from may onwards, speak up. i’ll be available.
for now though, i’ll end by saying thank you to tesco for employing me for almost three decades, the many friends that i have made along the way and the decent customers who managed to NOT insult or threaten me.
reading about “call me dave” and his trip up to yorkshire, i’ve written another little poem.
they were up to their waists in water and sludge, by god they were having it rough.
he came in his wellies, the much cheaper ones, so that he didn’t seem as much of a toff.
the last thing they needed was his gurning mug, looking concerned for the massed rank of cameras.,
looking concerned, shocked and amazed. like they all seem to do (lying wankers)
showing his *cough* humanitarian side, with the minister for floods in Barbados
cos, you know, it is christmas, he’s earnt that nice break, and quite frankly, he don’t give a toss.
old dave went to york, it was up to his ankles. any further he’d have needed some waders.
then he buggered off home, back down to the smoke, one of life’s greatest ever evaders.
the people up here, they’re made of strong stuff, they’ll face it, get through it together.
and probably say, with a grin on their faces, “tha what, dunt be soft lad, it’s just weather”.
but joking aside, let’s hope they’re ok, and the water it drains, moves elsewhere.
and fuck the politicians and their front page snap ops, we’ve proved again, it’s the people that care.
stay safe folks.
the platform doors open, and out you do fly
with a wave of the arm and a loud plaintive cry
you chase down the train as it starts to pull out
banging the windows like some sort of lout
the brakes lock on screeching, it jerks to a halt
the passengers glaring, they know its your fault
the carriage doors open you jump straight on in
we’re ready, the main show is about to begin
limbs they are flailing and voices are raised
can’t hear what’s being said but what a display
the ticket collector or guard (is that right?)
he’s not backing down, he’s up for the fight
next thing we know you are no longer on
with a roar of it’s engine, the train it is gone
and off you go again shouting and ranting
face turning purple sweating and panting
you look like John Cleese when he played Basil Fawlty
attacking his car with what looked like a small tree
turn on your heels, you go storming away
for those of us watching you’ve just made our day
so on behalf of us opposite on platform 2B
i say mate, doubt you’d have loved Mussolini!
i got a new ride this year. meet Pauline.
she is an AJS Modena.
i love her.
here she is with my other love.
she looks a bit different now. she’s had a fly screen
and a few vinyls put on.