Back to the Future

I keep attending interviews in time warps.
They must be occuring in time warps because I wait centuries for a decision, don't get one, then send them a reminder message asking to let me know please, and a week later I get a letter telling me their decision.
"Industry Standard" now seems to be:  If you don't get the job you don't to to know that you didn't get the job.
I'm not sure that's fair.
Meanwhile on the time travel front....I requested an application form, got an email on the 18th. July with application form attached.
Splendid.
The email asked for the completed application form to be returned by.... the 15th July.
Anyone got a Delorean?

The Omen

The last time I was unemployed (spoken in the tones of: "The Day War Broke Out"..)
I had an interview with Sure Start.
Sure Start is a government funded programme to work with parents and babies.
It was based on  the American Head Start programme.
Its original aim: End Child Poverty.
They planned to do this even without the intervention of Moses, God, or that guy who wears his underpants outside his tights....Ambitious.
Nobody seemed to look very hard at the results the Americans has with Head Start. As it transpired the results weren't wonderful, but Sure Start as a spin-off spinned off like a mad spinning thing
Anyway........ Sure Start needed a Male Worker on their project.
I went for the interview, and the interview consisted of:
"Oh hello, how are you?
Would you like the job?
When can you start?
You haven't murdered anyone lately have you?
No?
Excellent.
Can you start today?"
They didn't actually have a job, as such.
They had me sit on the floor where people brought babies in.
They didn't tell me what to do or anything.
Just sit there.
So I sat there.
For eight hours.
I have had various periods in my life that have been truly execrable.
Camping mainly. Trying to sleep and surf at the same time as the rain hammered through flopping failing canvas.
Or dentists. You'll just feel a slight prick. You LIE!!! Mr. Dentist!!!
But this eight hours sat on the floor being ignored and trying to look inviting/approachable/professional.
It was a long time...
It would have helped if they had told me what I was supposed to be doing, or let me see what the other "male workers" on other projects were doing , but no.
They had their Token Male Worker (me)
The government told them they had to have one and there you are.Ot there I was.
Sit over there and look paternal.
After the first day I bugged out.
I said:
Look.
You don't have a job for me.
You've got a square of carpet for me to sit on and make you look politically correct.
If you want to talk about a job, then get back to me. I'll be more than happy to make some constructive suggestions.
They never did get back to me.

To be continued....

Invasion

It started with this man Harris and his "miniature electronic organs".
He commenced his evil plan one dark and lonely English evening when there was still bread and dripping  for tea, Tommy Hanley's voice chuckled from that old valved radio in the corner and Auntie Macassar had called round for her usual helping of  spotted dick.
Then before you know it ....what happened to the music?
It's now all electronic computerised noise.
What happened to those lovely Ladies Lesbian String Quartets that used to entertain us as they played together over our profiteroles with ersatz cream substitute in Ye Olde Englishe Tea Roomes?
Gone. Gone forever.
And now we have Mr Murdoch with his dizzy redhead sidekick. He starts small with shares in miniature electronic organs and editing the Wallamazoo Times, but before you know it he's here.
Getting his minions to eavesdrop on our mobile telephone calls like it was something out of 1984.
1984....I remember 1984....there were hot buttered postmen for tea and fruity scones delivered the telegram letting us know that young Freddy was safe and well and impersonating Adolf Hitler in Bolivia....anyway I digress....
Why is the world being taken over by Australians?
If you have been following this blog, you'll realise that our Brave New Get Back To Work Service is being run by some mad Sheila.
It all started with Rolf Harris, but pretty soon all our traditional British instruments will be replaced by miniature electronic organs and all official correspondence will commence not with "Dear Sir or Madam", but with
"G'day You Old Bugger".

Letter to Ingeus

It strikes me as ironic that a company that is destined to deliver the new "Work Programme" can be so shoddy in the way it treats prospective employees.

I attended an interview with Ingeous, and got a rather unsatisfactory totally impersonal response.

Is this supposed to be Showing the New Way?

if it is, I have only this to say:

Oh dear...........

"Hello

I attended your interview.

Firstly the venue was changed, then the time of the interview was changed at very short notice.

When I arrived for the interview I was kept waiting thirty minutes without explanation.

I was then informed by mass-market email that I was unsuccessful and that nobody can give me any feedback because you are too busy.

In my view the arrangement between interviewer and interviewee is a contract:

The interviewee clears his/her diary and travels at their own expense to the interview (after taking an additional online "suitability test") in the case of Ingeus.

In return they usually get a phone call with feedback.

I believe this is "Industry Standard" or "Custom and practice", if you like.

It concerns me that Ingeus consider that an appropriate response to an "unsuccessful candidate" is a mass-market email, especially in view on the fact that Ingeus is supposed to be showing the New Way of how to help people get back into employment.

Your feedback to this message would be appreciated."

I'll let you know how I get on...... ;)