While I was away the post person had delivered my proof of JSA [Job Seekers Allowance] papers, which meant I could finally start claiming housing benefit from my local council. This is the bit I feel the least guilty about; I should be living in a council house paying cheap rent but Margaret Thatcher sold it off, leaving me no choice but to rent privately. I know, poor me.
Before I went to the council to hand in my proof of JSA papers I had to go and see Frank to finalise my Jobseeker’s Agreement and to show that I was back from holiday. Frank had had a haircut and it had taken ten years off of his age. It was nothing extravagant, it was still the same style, it just looked smarter. Frank asked me about my holiday and I told him about my one day in Northern Ireland, making it sound like I had been there all week. Before I went away I had told Frank that I’d spend the holiday thinking about and deciding on a career. I was still none the wiser but had to make it sound like I had made my decision. We put down Care Assistant, Child Care Assistant, and Customer Service Assistant and I agreed to write to three employers each week, phone at least one, and search Jobseekers.direct.gov.uk two times a week. I signed the agreement and Frank made me an appointment for a week Thursday to sign on and visit Herbert, the man from Next Step for advice on CV writing and applying for jobs. Frank and I shook hands and I headed off for the Civic Centre.
At the Civic Centre I had to queue for a paper ticket at the desk. With my paper ticket in hand, I went and sat down, peered up at the screen, and waited for my number to be called. Like you’d do in Argos. But nowhere near as exciting. When my number was called I went and sat at the desk that had become free. The guy on the other side looked at me and said “That‘s strange, you’re in a room for some reason”. I got out of my seat and looked at the screen again and he was right, I had been put into one of the rooms. I’d just assumed that I’d be at a desk like everyone else, and like every time I’ve ever been there before. A desk was free too, why was I going into a room? What had I done wrong!? With embarrassment, I headed for room 12. I peered through the glass on the door and there was an attractive lady in her late thirties sitting behind a desk. I knocked on the door and she told me to come in. Maybe she’d seen me waiting? I handed her my proof of JSA and she went off and photocopied it. She didn't return with police officers so everything was fine; I hadn’t accidentally ticked the disabled persons box on my application or exaggerated my rent. Sadly, she hadn’t seen me in the waiting room earlier either and when she gave my papers back I stood up, said goodbye, and left.
My job searches that week had been very uneventful, nothing took my fancy and I didn’t really understand a lot of the job roles. I did however stumble across a casting agency looking for extras. It’s £87 a day and they were looking for men of my description. I was once an extra in a friends music video but I’ve never seen it. I fear that they scrapped it because of my poor acting skills. I was only an extra but I wouldn’t be surprised if my poor attempt at being part of a crowd ruined the whole thing. I went and bought a tape measure [they need body measurements for potential costumes] but I bottled signing up and never did take my measurements. Except one, and I really wish I hadn’t bothered.
