Blog: The Dowager Duchess Of Dole

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On Friday I went to SIGN ON for the DOLE. I've officially been off work for AGES but until recently I was technically a full-time student, so haven't really been eligible, but now that I AM I thought I'd give it a go.

Several people have said to me "Ooh no, I couldn't do that again, it's horrible. They MAKE you go in for interviews and stuff." To this I reply in two ways: firstly, I spent twenty years working in Universities mostly in positions allied to IT departments, so am well versed in byzantine organisational structures, institutional incompetence, low quality customer relations bordering on madness, and sitting around doing nothing for huge swathes of time, so feel well prepared for the experience. Secondly, if they try to make me do anything TOO stupid and/or annoying I can always say "No thank you" and simply go back to the non-receipt of dole situation I was in before.

With all this in mind I was well prepared for what was to follow. On Thursday, while in Peterborough for the Extravaganza, I'd had two text messages to remind me of my appointment time, 11:50am, followed by a telephone call to remind me again. So far so KEEN. At 10:00am on Friday I got a phone call asking me to go in at 11:00am instead and then ten minutes later ANOTHER phone call explaining that the original time had been a clerical error, and could I go in at 11 o'clock instead. I happily agreed, then the lady said "Great, so that's 11:50 then" and hung up the phone. Excellent!

She'd told me that when I arrived I was to fill in some paperwork and then go to the first floor. I arrived at the ground floor at ten to eleven (EAGER, PROFESSIONAL) to find that they had done away with boring old fashioned things like a reception desk, and replaced it with a bunch of people lurking around trying to get the attention of the G4S security guy to see if he had any clue what was going on. Eventually he called over a "floor walker" who told me to go straight up to the first floor.

When I arrived at the first floor there was again no reception, so I had to wait until another G4S security man took pity on me and found someone with a desk to talk to me. This person asked me a) where my paperwork was b) why wasn't I on the second floor and c) wasn't I a bit early for my appointment at noon?

I went up to the second floor, went through the same non-reception confusion, and got waved at by a nice lady who eventually came over and apologised for keeping me waiting. "This is a rapid re-application isn't it?" she asked. My last application was in 1992 so I assumed there was a mistake, which indeed there was. She gave me a form to fill in and then made an appointment for me to go back in two weeks for a proper interview, at 8:30am. I BAULKED at the time, but realised that this was the end of my obligations to DWP for a fortnight, so smiled POLITELY and left.

The POLITE SMILE was indicative of my whole DEMEANOUR, and whilst waiting I realised that this was something I ALWAYS do in these sort of situations i.e. I act like a MINOR ROYAL on a VISIT. It was the same a few weeks ago when I had to have a hospital check-up, I become like MAGGIE SMITH or someone, smiling benevolently at all the dear poor people around me, remarking whenever appropriate how jolly nice it all is and radiating calmness and tranquility. I basically become like the QUeen Mum visiting the old East End during the Blitz.

On reflection I realised that this is an EXCELLENT way to get through such situations - after all, if it's good enough for our great nation's number one family of claimants, then surely it is good enough for me. Next week I plan to open a FETE!

posted 29/9/2014 by MJ Hibbett

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