Workplace
What Martin Scorsese Taught Me Under The Table. Top Story - December 2021.
Did you really meet the famous director/producer Martin Scorsese under a table, people ask? I did, at the NATPE convention in Vegas, and years later, the story is as quirky and memorable in the way I met him and a facet of my authentic self.
By Zel Harrison4 years ago in Confessions
Office Bully
The Office Bully I admit I was proud of myself when I was successful in securing a position in a large organization that had branches here and also overseas. It had been a challenging and fairly nerve-racking interview process. The position was on the front desk, managing a very busy switchboard, organizing travel for the executives and salespeople and attending to the incoming mail. I had always worked in front desk and receptionist positions as this work came naturally to me as I found communicating and relating to other people easy.
By Elle 4 years ago in Confessions
The Truth About Teaching. Top Story - December 2021.
Teaching. It is considered to be one of the most fulfilling careers. It is the type of job where you truly have to be passionate about it to enjoy it. Lucky for me, I have known that teaching was my calling since I created a “school” out of my garage for the neighborhood kids when I was only eleven years old. It became my dream to have my own classroom one day and make a difference in my students’ lives.
By Allison Kamholz4 years ago in Confessions
Work
As we have established academia was not my forte therefore my transition from the school yard and into the world of work could only take one of two pathways, one being the world of manual labour/factory fodder or with a great deal of good fortune into the fortunate life of a trade. In 1964 I was extremely lucky to gain an apprenticeship in joinery through a family member who secured me a placement with a local building company and the same Gods that deserted me when I shat my pants in my primary school days had now deemed my life on this planet worthwhile when I found myself entering the gates of C.&G.L. Desoers Ltd Master Builders based at 2-4 Marathon Street Liverpool 6, armed with my brew (sugar and tea wrapped in newspaper) and cheese & onion sandwiches ready to start my life as an apprentice. Although deep down I was shaking like a jelly outwardly I was trying to portray the confidence that was befitting of an experienced man of the world, I quickly learned that my bravado never fooled anyone. Within an hour of meeting my work colleagues I soon came to realise where in the food chain of the workplace I actually fitted and if I thought my first day at school was bad enough I never could have imagined what this so called mature adult world had in store for me. I had been instructed by the foreman that my role was to be a 'runner' and 'can lad' (messenger and tea maker) for those on the shop floor and to keep my mouth closed and my ears open and that my duties would include going to the shop prior to lunchtime with their orders which mainly meant the chippy and to brew the tradesmen’s individual cans of tea on my return in readiness for lunch. So having a clear understanding of what was expected of me I decided to show initiative hoping to prove myself a valuable member of the team, now armed with my note paper and pencil I started to take orders from each individual hoping to make a good impression with my keenness. There were four Joiners, two Machinists and two general labourers plus Mr Hughes the Foreman and as a wet behind the ears gullible fresh piece of meat, my first ever lunch order I diligently took was as follows: Joiner Fred "I'll have one bag of chips and one piece of Cod, 20 Woodies (cigarettes) and a pint of pigeons milk". Machinist Bill, asked me to call in to ironmongers next to chippy and ask if they had an elastic tape measure in stock and to find out the cost. Joiner Bob, again while at the ironmongers asked me to pick up one large tin of blue fog. Labourer Tom, "I'll have a bag of chips and a pot of curry sauce also while at ironmongers ask if they sell fanny crack filler". Foreman Mr. Hughes, requested me on the way back to call into the front office and ask Mr. Desoer if he could give me a long stand. So having humiliated myself at the ironmongers asking for ‘Fanny crack filler’ ‘blue fog’ ‘Pigeons milk’ and an ‘elastic tape’ I was now being told to wait outside the front office while somebody fetched the long stand while juggling an arm full of wrapped steamy fish and chips before then being sent back to the workshop after a 10 minutes minus the mythical stand and having to listen to the howls of laughter from my so called work colleagues on the shop floor, at this point I couldn't imagine my life being any worse but how wrong I was. That afternoon when all the lunchtime activities had settled down and my humiliation was beginning to fade and the day was drawing to a close I was engrossed in my cleaning duties of brushing up the shavings and preparing the workshop in readiness for home time when my nightmare truly began, what happened next put being placed down a school yard coke chute by a group of pimply faced morons into insignificance? When out of the blue I was duly set upon by the two muscular labourers who pinned me to the workshop floor then proceeded to drag my trousers down below my knees, before continuing to remove my underpants and began to smear my genitals in fish glue which in turn were being showered in wood shavings by the rest of the workers. I had been well and truly initiated and apparently this was an accepted ritual for all new apprentices throughout the building industry and totally endorsed by employers and employees who turned a blind eye to these so called initiations and dismissed them as workplace pranks, but this was the sixties when OHS&W was non existent and I thought my school days were bad. But revenge can sometimes be sweet, very sweet indeed and it was some weeks later that I began to reap my reward or should I say rewards as my revenge lasted for the whole year and to this day I'm sure my devious exploits have gone undetected which still brings a wry smile to my face as I share this with you. As I stated earlier my duties as a first year apprentice included preparing and making my work colleagues 'cans of tea' in readiness for their lunch which in turn meant cleaning out the cans from the morning break. Being a dedicated 'Can Lad' and keen apprentice I took these duties very seriously and had decided that the only way to keep these Cans' clean and free from tea stains was to urinate in them and boy did I urinate in them, every working day for the rest of the year I performed my duties with diligence and a great deal of hot steamy body fluid. My initiation may have been humiliating but after all it was only one day of barbaric and archaic behaviour and my sweet revenge was calculated, lasting and extremely pleasurable to observe those nasty bastards sipping their lunchtime cuppa's while I sat watching, eating my cheese & onion sandwiches and occasionally giggling to myself while enquiring 'how's your tea?’ Three years into my apprenticeship and things had settled down, I had become a true member of the team and my joinery skills were improving day by day, the demons of the past had truly faded along with the glue stains that had engulfed my juvenile genitals. I was happy with my lot after all I had moved on from my initial pay slip of two pound sixteen shillings and eight pence a week as a 15 year old to earning over eight pounds a week at 17, which in 1966 to me was a small fortune. My mum would take three pound for housekeeping and I had the princely sum of a fiver ever week to spend as I liked, my life was on the up after all one pound ten shillings could buy you 8 pints of lager, a packet of 20 woodies and a curry. Things could not have been better when out of the blue the worse possible news was delivered to me one bright sunny August morning as I entered the gates to start another working day, when I was greeted by Mr. Hughes and led into his office to be told that my apprenticeship was to be suspended as Desoers Building Contractors were going into receivership and my employment would be terminated effective immediately. Mr. Desoer himself apologised personally for the situation he found himself in and promised to do everything in his power to have my apprenticeship transferred to another builder for completion. True to his word within two days I received news that my apprenticeship would be taken over and continued with a London based company called Trollope and Colls who were one of the main contractors on the massive building project in the city centre of Liverpool I was to finish serving my time on the largest building site the north of England had seen at that time. I would spend the next three years working on one of Liverpool’s most iconic features, the amazing St Johns shopping precinct and I had the opportunity and good fortune to have played my part in the construction of Liverpool’s tallest building the St Johns Beacon, now known as the Radio City Tower which is one of the cities great skyline features and stands proud along with the two amazing Cathedrals and of cause the famous Liver building with it’s iconic Liver birds staring out over the River Mersey. Radio City Tower is a radio and observation tower formally a revolving restaurant and ventilation shaft built in 1969 and opened by Queen Elizabeth II It was designed by James A. Roberts Associates in Birmingham. It is 138 meters (452 foot) tall, and is the second tallest free-standing building in Liverpool and the 32nd tallest in the United Kingdom. When considering the height of the building, however, it has a 10 metre long antenna on the roof, making it the highest structure in Liverpool. So my claim of working on Liverpool’s tallest building still remains true at the time of penning this memoir.
By Roy Travers4 years ago in Confessions
Good days, Bad days
I have always struggled with anxiety. No one ever explained to me what it is or even told me that it was okay that I was dealing with it. But It's something that's been evading my day-to-day activities since I was a child. The main focus of my anxiety was fear. Fear that something would go wrong at some point in my day and it had been that thought, that worry, that fear that kept me company growing up.
By Raise Life Up4 years ago in Confessions
The Educator in Me
My name is Helen, known to my learners and parents as Ms. Helen. I have always wanted to teach. My seven year old version of me begun teaching my younger siblings. My parents would solicit me to be the home work helper when they were too busy to do so. I had some non cooperative students but my parents made sure they were at least half way compliant. My passion was reading and writing as an elementary student. I loved to teach others to read and write. When I turned sixteen, I got a job working in a child care setting during the summer which further cultivated my passion of teaching.
By Words by Mary4 years ago in Confessions
Is Your Salesperson Calling You a Bogue?
The first time I heard the word ‘bogue’ was when I was training to work at a car dealership. I wasn’t sure what the word meant, but my manager used a negative tone when he said it. It wasn’t long before he’d used the word enough times for me to figure it out. He was referring to guests with a low credit score while trying to buy a car. He warned us that a bogue wouldn’t attempt to negotiate the price of the car.
By Jade M.4 years ago in Confessions
Day Has Gone By
The hospital is on a special land once belonging to the Cherokee. It is alongside the Tennessee River in Chattanooga. The Cherokee were removed from these very coordinates in 1838 and then the Union Army nearly starved to death in the same location in the winter of 1863.
By American Wild4 years ago in Confessions
Saving Banana Man
I had never dreamed of becoming a social worker. My mum, and a host of aunts, uncles and cousins were all happiest in front of the classroom. Being a teacher was in my blood. I had always escaped the tension and sorrow at home by retreating to my bedroom and diving deep into school projects.
By Geri McKenzie4 years ago in Confessions
Never Meant to Be Sent: Angry Letter to My Old Boss. Top Story - December 2021.
Dear -----, It's been more than a year since I worked for you. I spent three years of my life under your nose. I'm still angry at you. I decided writing a letter that you'll never read might help me to get over you.
By Andrea Lawrence4 years ago in Confessions
My Airbnb Guests
"to all the writers of experiences - you are free to create the experience you wish more of." They say, "every person is an experience" but then the rationale dictates. Every experience is not desirable. And by that logic, every person is not desirable especially if it’s your family.
By Mithyajoj (penname)4 years ago in Confessions
