If you ask me1
If you ask me, real life is not all it's cracked up to be. Twelve years at school and three
years at university, teachers banging on about opportunities in the big wide world beyond
our sheltered life as students, and what do I find?
2
Try as I might to stay cheerful, all I ever get is hassle, sometimes with people (especially
boys, god, when will they grow up?), but mostly with money. It's just so expensive out here!
Everyone wants a slice off you. The Inland Revenue wants to deduct income tax, the bank
manager
wants
repayments
on
my
student
loan,
the
landlord
wants
the
rent,
gas,
water,
electricity and my mobile bills keep coming in, and all that's before I've had anything to eat.
And then some bright spark calls me out of the blue, asking if I'm interested in buying a
pension. At this rate, I won't even last till the end of the year, let alone till I'm 60.
3
I didn't really want to go out to work just yet. I mean, I wasn't a dropout and I knew I'd
have to some day. According to any number of people "life's not a picnic", "there's no such
thing as a free lunch". But given that I'd got a good degree, I thought I'd like to go on to get
my master's. Actually, I had my eye on the course at the London School of Economics (LSE) .
Top school, very good for my CV. But I talked to my mum about it, and she said she couldn't
afford to support me any more. I kind of understand it, and not just because my degree is in
economics. She'd worked hard for 15 years to give me an education. My dad wasn't around
most of the time, and when he was, he didn't have any money. He'd spent it gambling on the
dogs or down the pub. So it came to the point when I just agreed with Mum, and bowed
myself towards the inevitable.
4
If you ask me, and despite everything you hear, fortunately there are some really nice
people out there. Take Mike, for example. When I left university, what I thought was that my
mum would feel obliged to look after me if I returned home. So I packed up my belongings
and went to London to get a job. I wanted something in finance and investments, because
you know, maybe with a job like that, I could use my degree. But by that time, there were no
jobs left, and I didn't really want to end up in some boring office, doing photocopies and
making the tea.
5
Go anywhere you like in London and there's usually a good pub. The day I realized no
one in the city was going to offer me a job, I went into The Salisbury on Leadenhall Street for
a drink and something to eat. Mike the landlord was at the bar, pouring pints with one hand,
making sandwiches with the other, and washing the glasses all at the same time
鈥?/p>
it's true, he
really did seem to have three hands. He also seemed to know everyone, and greeted the
regulars
by
name,
getting
their
drinks
ready
with
the
question,
"The
usual
today,
is
it?"
I
thought he looked kind of cool, he was doing what he did best, serving thirsty clients, and no
one did it better. So I went up to him and asked him whether there was a job for me.
6
Well, to cut a long story short, I started work in the pub one Friday lunch time. It was
quite demanding work, but I liked it. People seemed to find me amusing and it made me feel
better too. There was one middle-aged regular in a suit who always had a half of bitter and
a ham and pickle sandwich, with the crusts cut off. When I saw Tony coming, I tried to have
his lunch ready for him even before he asked. He was another one of those really nice people.
7
If you ask me, spending money when you don't have any is dead easy. I began to think
about how I'd spend my first month's wages. The flat where I was staying was expensive, and
I just about had enough to cover the first month's substantial bills. But I calculated that there'd