Life Insurance

I read some of the poetry I'd written to my mum the other day.

She said to me "haven't you got any happy ones?"

It had occurred to me that I was a bit of a miserable bastard, but then maybe I just enjoy a bit of misery? I'm like a young rhyming Victor Meldrew answering a puppy instead of a phone.

(I've never done that)

I think my first post on here would have been about two and a half years ago, and still minus a few stints into working life and a failed record deal I remain 'The Unemployedazoid.'

In the Job Centre on Monday a woman sat next to me breathing like Darth Vader would if he was being buggered by a large traffic cone. I thought to myself that that woman might have a decent excuse for not working. After all she looked as rough as she sounded and smelt a tad worse. To the best of my knowledge I smell pretty much on the right side of cat shit in an ash tray, and look the right side of poo stained pikey paedo, so what's my excuse?

Well, some people might call me lazy though I prefer the phrase picky or selective. Forgive me for not tripping over myself to become a salesman of life insurance but it seems to me like possibly the most ridiculous thing for anyone to actually want to do?

Type 'Life Insurance' into Google images and look what comes up. It's like a thousand perfect families frolicking on beaches and having picnics. Fathers happily throwing their children into the air safe in the knowledge that should they get terminal cancer or be killed in a freak road accident little Johnny can still get a PlayStation 4 next Christmas. Because ultimately life insurance is mostly about death isn't it? I suppose that death wasn't that popular in the advertising focus group though.

Anyway..

When I arrived at the interview for said job, I was told to take a seat in front of two blokes that looked a bit like they'd fallen out of a GAP advert. A boring blur of beige and cotton placed either side of a black plastic Christmas tree that divided them like some kind of strange channel 5 gay dating program. One of them had a note pad and a quiff of ginger hair, the other empty handed with a slightly blank stare. I cannot remember their names because both were instantly forgettable but I do remember one of their questions. I remember it because I'd been asked it before.

"So Unemployedazoid, if we were to offer you the job, where do you see yourself 5 months down the line?"

Now in all honesty I know the answer they were looking for. I had it right there for them. I'd say "Well I'd hope to be secure in my job and earning a good wage by hitting my set targets" or something like that. But I didn't. I said that I'd only just met them both and spoke to them for 10 minutes, and that for me to say where I saw myself in 5 months from now on the basis of that short conversation would be insane. I didn't give a fuck because I realised....

I don't want to sell life insurance.

Maybe a small part of me thought that they might see some charm in my honesty, but I'm almost certain they just thought I was a twat for waisting their time.