Bread Winner

Mr E is searching for employment, but Mr E has high expectations of what he is capable of and, yes, I suppose he could take a job as a waiter, but that would interfere with his social life. A shop job would be more convenient. So a few days ago off he trotted from the front door all the way to Piccadilly canvassing the most modish of shops with his humble CV. Today he was recalled by one of the finer retailers for an interview. Expecting it to be an informal chat, he had not prepared answers to questions such as ‘what type of customer to you expect to purchase our products?’ Not being a customer himself he was unsure how to classify their clients: ‘ummm someone from any background really…’ And his diplomatic answer secured him an offer of weekend employ.

Now, weekends don’t particularly fit in with our Mr E’s plans, and on his way back from an induction at a local gym (when selling clothing, it is surely part of your responsibility to make sure you exhibit the item to its greatest advantage) he spied a removals company called ‘Gentleman and a Van’. This would be classic, thought Mr E, I’m pretty strong, and I can lift furniture all day long. He chatted to the gentlemen and took a number for a manager. Returning home he googled the offices of a rival company ‘White Van Gentlemen’ and thought arriving in person would be more impressive to a prospective employee than a phone call. So off he went again, finding himself in a grot area just off Chelsea, and declining an offer of pot from a local, he met Max the Van man who told him work could only be offered on an ad hoc basis. Though a formal role with the company was not available a text was received (one of just a handful received this month for someone with such concern for his social calendar):

‘thanks for dropping in your CV, no positions at present. We are however often on the look out for enthusiastic and young people to help during busy periods so we’ll keep you on our books’.

Later that evening Mr E was found snoozing on the sofa by the proprietress of his lodgings and marched into the kitchen to learn how to make his own supper: mince, which he did rather well. When nipping out to the local shop to buy pasta Mr E found himself gifted with two French loaves from the café across the street who were shutting and had surplus from the day, proving that even without the job of his dreams he has still been able to earn his daily bread.