Friday, 11 October 2019

Hot weather / Hot water


A teacher based at a sixth-form college in Ipswich has asked if I can be interviewed by their A-level students about ‘the petroleum industry and its opposition to progress on climate change.’ It’s only for their latest project, and it’s an anonymous interview, so it’s not as if I’ll be quoted in the Press as a representative of OPEC or something.
I thought it would be a nice way to gauge how I interact with teenagers, considering that I am considering becoming a teacher. I also thought it would be handy to have my name known at a local educational establishment, in preparation of needing to contact them in the future for classroom experience or, eventually, a job.
So I said yes.
I set it up for one day next week, inviting them to spend an hour with me at the filling station before heading over to the supermarket for a light lunch and a proper chat in our spare managers office. They were absolutely overjoyed, and I was silently happy to have something a bit out-of-the-ordinary to look forward to next week.
Then I thought I’d better let Those Above Me know what was happening, and all Hell broke loose.
I shall spare you the boring details, and spare myself the pain of reliving them, but here are the outcomes and conclusions in list form:
1.    I was in my office until 7pm this evening.
2.    The interview is no longer happening.
3.    I have had to e-mail the college rescinding my offer and insisting that any future contact they wish to make with the Company be directed through Head Office.
4.    I am being booked on whichever pointless course my ‘superiors’ deem to be the most apt, to ensure something similar doesn’t happen again.
5.    For the foreseeable future I have to run every decision I make past my Area Manager, even simple ones like how much stock to order, or which hand to wipe my arse with.
6.    I am now more determined than ever to instigate an as-soon-as-possible career change.

RC 11-10-19

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