Work experience

Day 3 in the humble life of a workie at the Harrow Observer and I had my first unpleasant experience.

I answered the phone to an enraged woman who became further infuriated as soon as I uttered the words “work experience”.

She lambasted me for not being a proper journalist because I wasn’t part of the National Union of Journalists. (I just haven’t got around to it yet.)

Clearly, in her world if you don’t belong to the NUJ then you’re not actually a journalist.

She then grilled me on why the NUJ didn’t train reporters properly and how people like us were allowed to man the phones.

She was about to say something about media law to which I could have responded curtly with the fact that I do have Part 1 which the NCTJ not the NUJ requires. But I thought it was best to leave it.

I swiftly passed her over to a real journalist who got an interrogation about whether his shorthand was up to scratch.

There was also something about the NUJ needing to train reporters in the Mental Health Act and unfair dismissal. (We do learn about the latter.)

When the reporter I had foisted her onto realised that she was on a pay phone, he kept her talking until the change ran out and the phone cut off.

I might hasten to add that the woman was calling to air her grievances about being illegally sectioned in a mental hospital.

So that is just another day in the life of a workie. I hate saying that I am on work experience because of the connotations that go with it.

As soon as I say that I’m on work experience I can feel the warmth fade from the voice on the other end of the line.

Suddenly, they are ten thousand levels above you and you are just amoeba to them: a barely sentient being with the IQ of minus one.

They assume you are incompetent, a liability. With PR people their schmoozy and sycophantic veneer cracks and the cynical flak emerges.

Today’s incident was mildly amusing to say the least. She was a little less rude than the agent of a now Q-list celebrity who used to host an adventure game show in the nineties. The agent’s charisma might also be the reason why this celebrity has faded into obscurity.

It’s taken a while but I’ve learnt not to take it personally. As my friend from the Indy said yesterday, you need a thick skin to survive in this industry…and a hard nose as I was told by someone before being jabbed on the nose.