I don't want no dead end job

Well, that was one of the strangest interviews I’ve ever had. A few days ago, when I was walking down to the Post Office, I spotted a notice in the vet’s window saying “STAFF WANTED. Apply within”. Ooh, that could be good, I thought, so I went in and got an application form, rushed home, completed it, stapled my CV to it as requested then took it straight back. It was for a shared job, where several people cover all the shifts, which were from 9am till 12 noon, then 3pm till 6pm Monday to Friday. Ideal! A morning’s work, home for lunch and walk the dogs, then back in the afternoon. Today I had my interview.

Which wasn’t with the actual vet, but with the other women who do the job. Their task was to make a shortlist of people they felt they could get on with and would fit in. Remember, this is a village, not a large town. One of them opened the conversation with “Is Ned in his shorts yet?”. She was ‘Dudley-the-Weimaraner-and-Harry-the-mongrel’s mum; Ned often meets her husband dog-walking. Dudley and Piglet took a while to get used to each other but they’re fine with each other now. Another was a woman whose son was at playgroup when I helped out there many years ago. It was only the third who was a stranger.

A possible fly in the ointment could be that we no longer take our dogs to this practice for a variety of reasons, not least of which was when a partner in the practice ‘reassured’ me that Clover’s spots would go black as she got older, that “They all start out that colour”. Erm, no they don’t. Do you tell yellow lab owners that their dog will turn black? I think not. We went back to the vet we’d used before we moved here, who fortuitously had relocated to the branch about 4 miles from here. Unfortunately there’s no love lost between him and my prospective employer ... Anyway, cups of tea and coffee were made and we chatted about all sorts of things as well as the job. There aren’t as many shifts on offer as I’d hoped – only two a week to start with – and the wage rate isn’t great, but it’d be better than a poke in the eye.

I should hear by Easter.