“Tuesday 7th September at 9:30am. Please arrive in plenty of time” screamed the email.
“Be on time every day and everyone’s a winner” makes it sound like some American kindergarten chant. But of course, at approximately 9.28 I was still on the train. A late train. Again. Every day I wake up and think today will be the day that the trains run on time; every day I am left with shattered dreams. To steal a line from Tim Booth, lead singer of James: "Gotta keep faith that your path will change, Gotta keep faith that your luck will change, Tomorrow". Now, where did I put that timetable?
By the way, do you know what’s worse than a late train?
A late train that runs slow!
Leaves on the line? No. Cable theft? No. Overhead line problems? No? Too hot/wet/cold/slippy/icy? No. Just slow. Slow as in S.L.O.W for no foreseeable reason. And we weren’t even treated to one of those faux-apology-announcements over the PA system – not that I’d have heard it with the Levellers attacking my ear drums – much too loud for this early on a morning!
For being late you get a special treat – the last seat in the room, or almost the last seat because someone came in after me, but I have no idea where she magicked a seat from because it sure wasn’t there when I looked – if it had been she’d have had no chance! Yeah, sit at the front, where everyone can see you and realise that you are the dumb ass who was almost late on the first day. But not as late as the girl who came after...
35 nervous people sitting down in a room, all doing that classic first-day-of-school thing i.e.: trying to look at everyone whilst making out you’re looking at no one. With all the blokes checking out who’s hot and who’s not, and the girls obviously doing the same although they wouldn’t admit it. Another thing - 35? 35? Seriously? 20 people you said at interview! I know at £3,000 a pop you want as many of us in as possible, but there are serious personal space issues going on here, I hope no one’s claustrophobic. Plus all those people in a room that hot, hmm, not good! Although £100,000 in the company bank accounts must look good eh? That would buy a hell of a lot of fans though - do you not realise how cheap they are these days?
First things first, an introduction to the course followed by a video. A video with sound that can’t be heard because the speakers are rubbish. So what shall we do? Bright idea Number 1: shut the windows. Either the person that chose to do that has ice in their veins or is on some kind of revolutionary sweat-it-out diet. I take it you didn't realise how hot it was in there before you shut those windows? Never mind afterwards!
Or were you just trying to give a couple of us heat stroke, in the hope that we would leave because you realised you over-subscribed the course?
Bright idea Number 2: plug the video into the computer with better speakers. Yes, if you’d done that to start with we could still have had the windows open couldn’t we?
Did I mention the refreshments? No shyness here; no sooner were the croissants, Pain~au~chocolat and juice on the table than they were gone. Typical students!
After that it was onto shorthand...letters, alphabet, special outlines and dictation. I had two different female shorthand tutors in three years at uni and neither of them got me close to 100wpm. But this fella thinks he’ll take me there in less than 5 months? Good Luck Pal, you have my very best wishes!
At least no-one did a Jennie Drury; copying the alphabet from the back of the book then claiming they already knew it. Most people were too bamboozled by all these symbols. I mean seriously, how many ways are there to write the letter A? Never mind E! And don't get me started on M!
I've never done speed-dating before, but that was the beginning of this afternoon's activities. Basically instead of doing the totally embarrasing stand up, "I'm Paul from Basildon with a fetish for blow up dolls and an unhealthy interest in Freddie Mercury", the idea is that you spill your best (worst?) bits to the person sat next to you, and they embarrass you instead, great eh? So according to Kieran I think it was, or maybe Kevin? I knew one of the 7/7 bombers, although only by sight and not by name he hastily reassured the class! No, that's not what I told him but it's what he told everyone else. Can we stick to the basics like age, name, football team next time please? Mention politics and pacemakers if you have to, but Bombers is a bit dark for 2 o clock in a room full of strangers. Do you want SWAT teams crawling down the windows? Fool!
Oh, roll on January 24th...
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