Par For The Course (1)
Ian Kidd

 

PAR FOR THE COURSE


BY


IAN KIDD





Chapter 1 : Oh, No - Not ANOTHER Bloody Course!





Late March, 1997.

Apparently not dissuaded by their feeble previous attempt to set me up for a

job interview (at Bunnings), those zany 'Job Placement' people (see "It

Shouldn't Happen To A Bludger") were at it again.

This time, however, did initially sound more promising.

 I was being sent for an interview for the position of Clerical Assistant at

Community Aid Abroad in Adelaide.

So, off I went, on another Friday morning, bright and cheerful (chuckle),

confident and optimistic (guffaw).

 My pessimism was well-founded. It took two to interview me - a young man

and a young woman - both of whom seemed completely clueless and

cheerfully admitted they had never conducted an interview before. I felt

any optimism I did have rapidly ebbing away, but I did my best.

It was, after all, a genuine clerical job - unlike the last one - so I figured I'd

give it my best shot.

As per usual, however, my best wasn't going to be good enough. I soon

realised that, again, these people were looking for a 15 year old they could

pay below minimum wage, and someone with 10 years actual work

experience.

 Considering the whole point of this 'scheme' was to go on a 20-week

placement for training etc, I asked them about that.

 "We don't really know anything about training," the woman told me with a

dopey smile. "We probably won't be doing much of that."

 Just as I, I realised long before the interview was over, would not be doing

much work at Community Aid Abroad.


 It was around this time that the CES got in touch with me again. Always a

happy event, this time came the joyous news that I would be (yes, WOULD

BE!) going to an information session at TAFE on April 5th, regarding a

12 week Clerical Extension Course.

I can't say whay joy this news brought me.


 April 5, I filed into the TAFE lecture theatre. This was precisely the same place

that I'd assembled at almost 2 years before, to go on the famous "Employment

Connections" course debacle in July 95 (see "The Course"), and thus a more

than considerable sense of deja vu hung over the proceedings.

 I sat behind a quite pretty girl and her mother in the theatre. The "Information

Session" was the usual load of balls. Various clueless officials lining up to

tell how wonderful the course was, what good friends we'd make on the course,

and, even funnier, how we'd all end up with jobs at the end of it.

I tell you, I had to stop myself laughing out loud. These guys had stand-up

comics beaten hands down.

 Then, a TAFE official called Maud (who will go on to play a prominent part

over the coming chapters) did her bit, pretty much reiterating the same

clap-trap as the others, but also adding, for good measure, what tremendous

fun we'd have on the course.

Extra marks for originality and comic timing, Maud.

 We then all had to put our names down. I got the pen and paper after the girl

in front, and noted her name was Bianca. Bianca will also go on to play a

prominent part in the months and chapters to come - although probably not

in the fashion you're probably expecting.

 Anyway, the doors and exits were chained and padlocked, and all dissenters

were beaten and whipped until we signed our consent to go on the course (in

blood, no less).

 Make no bones about it, I didn't want to do it. I REALLY didn't want to do it.

I REALLY REALLY didn't want to do it.

I'd done it all before, and with the spectre of Muirden and Kirsty still hanging

over my shoulder, another course was the last thing I bloody well needed.

 But cunningly sneaked into the course were "2 weeks Work Experience".

As my Case Managers kept telling me, I needed Work Experience. I hadn't

done THAT. I couldn't think of an excuse to get me out of the need to do

THAT.

I couldn't wriggle out of it. I signed up.

 But even then, I had no intention of going through with it. I didn't even know if

I wanted clerical anymore. There was an acting course advertised in that

weekend's "Advertiser" - Austudy Approved - so I sent off for it. If there was

any way I could get out of this course, I would take it.

The information came on the Acting course.

It WAS Austudy Approved.

It sounded great. Just what I'd been looking for.

And it cost $2000.

 Two things suddenly became very clear to me as I read that:

1) I was going on the Clerical Extension Course, whether I liked it or not.

And

2) Life REALLY sucks.





CHAPTER 2 : Horses For Courses





That Friday was a 3-hour "Orientation Day" from 9-12, to get you...

assimilated into the course.

Imagine it: The Borg: "Resistance is Futile. You will be Orientated!"

 I did not attend. I didn't want to go on the course, so I wasn't about to waste

three hours on my last free Friday chatting inanely and having 'morning tea'

and the like.

Bugger that for a lark.

The first I saw of these people was 9 am Monday morning.

 Now, it is here that I would usually introduce and give you the rundown on the

people I would be attending the course with.

But I won't. Why? Because I didn't know them. I didn't bother to. I didn't care.

I didn't want to be there.

 That first week I spent in an unmitigated fury of irritation and sheer bad

temper. As feared, I had done it all before.

I fumed.

 Tuesday evening, I rang Michael, in what would ultimately turn out to be our

final conversation. As you might guess, he was "too busy" to do anything

that week. Apparently, he was going away for a dirty weekend with Linda

later, and was... er... packing. He asked me, as I was moaning about the

course, if there were any cute girls there.

 "No," I replied. "They're all ugly."

 Now here, for the historic first time in a 'Dole Bludger' story, I have to

apologise wholeheartedly and beg forgiveness.

This was NOT the right thing to say.

a) It was very tactless and cruel, and

b) It simply wasn't true, anyway.

 However appalling though this was, I think it highlights my state of mind

that first week. I was in a VERY bad place. I wasn't even looking at any of

the girls. I was just so unhappy.

 Anyway.

 Michael promised faithfully to ring me in a week, when he got back from his

'dirty weekend'.

That was the last I ever had to do with Michael.





 Anyhow.

My unhappiness came to a head the Monday of the 2nd week. Spending an

afternoon being taught Customer Service is bad enough. Spending an

afternoon being taught Customer Service AGAIN - by a very dull and irritating

Scotswoman, too - was just too much.

 Being put in a group and told to make a 'brochure' - in our OWN TIME - for a

'fictional' business of our own invention was, frankly, nearly the last straw.

 I also noticed, in our group, a beautiful girl called Tracey.

I liked her instantly.

And that was IT.

 I'm sorry. Does this make sense? Going through a boring course I'd already

done once was one thing.

But Tracey was VERY beautiful.

And to be honest, I knew if I continued, I would like her more and more.

I would spend three months becoming totally infatuated and enamoured with

her, maybe or maybe not ask her out, and end up alone and feeling worse

than ever.

I knew it. It had all happened before.

And it wasn't going to happen again.

 Going home that afternoon, I called into the CES, and told them I wanted out.

I was then well and truly 'talked out of it', and told by the CES woman that she

would talk to Maud, and arrange for me to get more 'interesting' things to do.

 I realised they weren't going to let me off the course no matter what I said.

I also realised that if I was taken off the subjects currently being studied, like

another girl there, Evelyn, that I would be on my own and away from the rest

of the group for over 50% of the time.

I decided not to bother.

My 'talk' with Maud ultimately boiled down to my making a complaint about

Customer Service being dull - there was only 2 lessons of that left anyway -

and not much else.

 Tuesday morning, even before I got to talk to Maud, I'd already realised I

was stuck on this thing, and was just going to have to do it. I also decided

that, although it was far too boring for me to 'enjoy' it, I wasn't going to try too

hard. I had, for heaven's sake, all these same qualifications on my resume

already, so if I failed... so what? No homework was going to be done. Forget

that.

 Anyway, seeing as I was now realising I was stuck there, I began to take

more notice of who I was on the course with, so here I shall finally do the

customary 'introductions'. Here's a rundown of my course group:


Bianca - Already mentioned. Sweet girl, but I wasn't interested.

Tracey - 21, stunningly beautiful (as I've already said). Warm, funny, sweet,

kind, gentle.

Keith - Middle-aged bloke (only one on the course). Good guy, with an

increasingly dry line in wit and biting one-liners as time went on.

Elton - Only guy around my age on the course. Okay, but a bit odd. Strange

ideas about nasal implants (maybe he should see Mulder and Scully?)

Barbara - One of our many "middle aged ladies". Nice, but a bit helpless

and a bit of a whiner.

Leslie - Smart, likeable, sharp-tongued middle-aged lady.

Michelle - Teenage girl. Didn't have much to do with her. Became good friends

(rapidly) with Bianca. Rather... erm... unattractive.

Fiona - Cool, sharp-tongued middle aged lady.

Melissa - Nice young girl. Friendly. A bit wet. Not ugly, but not my type.

Rachael - Smart young girl with good sense of humour. Her and Melissa

were practically inseparable. Again, not unattractive, but again "not my

type"...and taken, anyway.

Evelyn - Young woman. Rather overweight and unattractive. Before she spoke

I thought she was a guy! Already married (to a guy who looked twice her age)

with kids! However, friendly, smart and helpful.

Julie - Middle aged - but "lady" would be pushing it. The most infamous

person on the course, Julie was a notorious pain in the ass, obnoxious,

opinionated, and decidedly annoying. Leslie hated her guts.


There was another guy, a Michael somebody (God, not ANOTHER Michael!)

but he buggered off after week 1. Lucky guy.

 Anyway, the players were in place, and on Tuesday morning I found myself

unexpectedly and fortuitously seated next to Tracey for our lesson, "Clerical

Procedures".

I was wrong.

It WAS going to happen, all over again.





Chapter 3 : She Already Had A Boyfriend





It was "get to know you's" again. Each of us had to write down three things about

ourselves, and then give it to our partner - wowee! Tracey had a dog - a

Staffordshire Terrier - and had just bought a car. Sorry, can't remember the

other thing.

 I was, in common with my new 'I don't give a fuck' persona, being deliberately

obtuse.

My list of 3 things about myself was:

1) I had a dog

2) called Sheena

3) Who is now dead


 This set Tracey off into a fit. She had a great laugh.

Aww.

YUCK.

 Our instructor gave us tips on how to cheer ourselves up when we were feeling

down. We should draw a little face (smiling, of course) on our finger and wave

it at ourselves.

This is what this woman gets paid for.

 Tracey drew one on my finger (she's touching me, I thought!), and I, with

shaking hands (I'm touching her, I thought!), drew one on hers.

That was it.

A girl had touched me.

And I had touched her.

I was in LURVE, baby.

 Unfortunately, that afternoon I discovered an inevitable, and by this time less

than shocking - in fact rather dull - truth.

If you can't guess, look at the chapter title, for goodness sakes.

Read it? Right.

She was, as they say, unavailable.

I could not have been less surprised had Jeremy Beadle popped out and told

me the entire last six years of my life had been one long, decidedly sick,

practical joke.

 I didn't really care, either. Well, I did and I didn't.

I mean, I liked her and she was certainly cute and that. I just couldn't really

be that bothered. Muirden, Kathryn and Kirsty were still very much in the

forefront of my mind, and I was quite relieved she had a boyfriend - this way,

I simply didn't even have to be bothered trying.

This way, it - and Tracey - didn't really matter all that much to me.

At least, that was the theory.

In practice, however, was a different manner.

While it was true I did not fall for Tracey with the same speed or intensity

or sheer unbridled obsession that I had for Kathryn, the basic facts were:

Tracey was very sexy, very beautiful, and laughed at my jokes.

And I had no friends at all now, and was still very much horribly single.

You do the math.

By the end of the first month, I liked her, and with every day that passed, I liked

her more.

I knew it was hopeless. I knew it was doomed. I had absolutely no intention of

doing ANYTHING - period - about it.

But still, I could not stop myself developing a huge crush on her.

Not as big as the one I had on Kathryn, perhaps, but still a pretty bloody large

one, all the same.



 Anyhow.

On other fronts, I was getting nervous about the aforementioned Melissa.

She and Rachael and I had become friends, and often times I was hanging

around them. They were friendlier than the others, not as weird as Elton or

as gorgeous as Tracey, and as I had no particular physical attraction for

either of them, they were both very safe and non-threatening to be with, and

I had become fairly good friends with the pair of them.

Not as good as I had with Rebecca at Muirden, but then I could do without

those kind of complications as well.

I was still feeling pretty sensitive in all areas, and the scars still had a way to

go to heal.

Which is why, returning from lunch one day and talking to Melissa, I began to

get a tad unnerved by the direction the conversation was taking.

She was complaining about her muddled love life (I'm thinking "Why are

you telling me this?", with the emphasis on "ME?") when she suddenly blurted

out "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?"

 Uh - oh, I thought, mind racing. Why does she want to know? But I couldn't

be bothered to lie or anything daft like that, so I said simply "No.'

 Melissa, however, wasn't about to leave it at that. "Why not?" she asked.

"You not interested?"

 "No," I replied, deciding (uncharacteristically, I'm sure you'll agree) to be

brutally honest. "It's just that the ones I'm interested in aren't interested in me."

Ain't that the truth.

 "Oh," Melissa seemed to accept that.

 Fair enough. But I was worried. Why was she even INTERESTED in my love

life? I was paranoid. She didn't have a crush on me, did she? Please no.

I know, I know, I was probably severely overreacting to what was probably an

innocent enough query, but as I said, the spectre of Muirden hung large in my

mind, and I simply could not bear a repeat of the Rebecca situation.

I decided to lessen my friendliness with Melissa. Not drastically or anything,

but just a little cooler.

I was NOT in the mood for another Muirden.

Who would be?





Chapter 4 : Rebel Without A Cause - Or A Girl (Or Friends)...





One Friday lunchtime I was in the Noarlunga Centre when a fight broke out

between two men over a woman. The fight was brutal and vicious, and the

woman was screaming. A crowd formed, not knowing what the heck to do,

and everyone, including myself, had the good sense to stay out of it. At one

stage one of the guys had the other in a headlock and was smacking him

with his fist.

Then it looked like it was over. They parted, and stood gasping. Then the guy

who'd been the underdog lashed out unexpectedly, punching the guy in the

face with a sickening crack.

The guy, understandably, went down.

The crowd, understandably, went "Ooh".

The guy, understandably, then got up and launched himself at the other guy

again.

Eventually - and I do mean eventually - security guards arrived to break them

up and arrested them.

Drama over, I toddled off back to TAFE to relate the drama to my colleagues.

 "Really?" Bianca was shocked. "Me and Michelle just came from there. We

must have just missed it." She sounded really disappointed.

It didn't seem so funny a couple of days later though.

Apparently, one of the guys died (I don't know which) and the other was up

on a manslaughter charge.

Shocking.

I had witnessed my first murder.

And I didn't even bring any popcorn.



 Although for a week or two, I'd been paranoid that Tracey had twigged that I

liked her and was avoiding me, at this stage we were becoming buddies.

Sometimes, if we both got there early in the morning, we'd sit together and

talk.

I started getting there early QUITE A LOT.

 One time Tracey confided in me that she had once been almost abducted by

a gang of youths. She had simply been walking down the street when a car

pulled up and a gang of youths had tried to pull her in. She had only escaped

by jumping on a nearby bus.

I was genuinely shocked by this. The idea of such a thing happening to anyone

was bad enough, but to Tracey?

Appalling. I mean, how could anyone want to hurt Tracey?! She was just so

NICE.

 I shook my head in sympathy. "It's just not very nice anymore, is it?" I

commented.


 In other news, I was turning into a bit of a rebel.

It started with an entire day spent doing Resumes. Tedious and dull at the best

of times, but an entire DAY? Fair enough for those who didn't have them (how

can they have been unemployed for so long and NOT have a resume, anyway?)

but what about those who DID?

They had to do them AGAIN, of course.

I already had a professional resume from Muirden, so I simply updated it on

the computer - taking into account this new course - and printed out

several copies.

It took just over an hour. By rights, what with the rest of the day still being

Resumes, you'd have thought they'd give me something else to do, or send

me home.

Guess again.

The stupid bitch in charge - Angela something or other - found all sorts of

trivial things wrong with it, despite it being approved by a professional

organisation like Muirden, and insisted I change it. This took me twenty

minutes.

But then, lo and behold, she found NEW things wrong with it that also needed

changing, despite it being no different to the previous resume save for the

modifications SHE'D requested.

After several hours of this, I was starting to get right royally pissed off.

It was very clear what was happening. There wasn't anything wrong with the

resume, it was complete and up to professional standard - if it's good enough

for Muirden, it's good enough for me - but the silly little bitch tutor clearly had

nothing else for us to do, and just didn't want to let me go early. This downright

pettiness infuriated me, and after a while I simply stopped taking the resume

to her. There would always, I was sure, be something wrong with it - until time

ran out, of course, at which point it would ne doubt become perfect.

After several hours of doing absolutely nothing, just before 3:30pm, I packed

my stuff, told Angela I had a dental appointment and went home.

Several others followed suit (although Elton had simply walked out at break

and just not come back). The scary thing was there were TWO full days of

Resumes to go next week! Unbelievable.

 Leaving early had only been a tiny bit of rebellion on my part, but it was

rebellion all the same, even if it did pale in comparison with what was to come.

 The sparks really started flying the following Wednesday. Work Experience

was coming up, and we'd all had to decide what we wanted to do on our 2

weeks.

I had chosen to try for 2 weeks WE at Noarlunga Library, which sounded

suitably non-threatening (although sadly Elton was also going for it - bastard!).

Anyhow, everybody obviously had very different wants and needs, and that

afternoon Maud had decided to let us go early, at 3, an hour early.

 But then she dropped the bombshell. "I want someone to volunteer to stay

behind and type up a list of what everyone wants to do," she said. "Any

volunteers?"

Obviously, no one exactly threw their hands up in enthusiastic delight.

 "Ian?" she said, right out of the blue singling me out. "Will you?"

 "No," I replied instantly. No way was I staying behind while everyone else

got to go home early. Why the hell should I? I didn't want to be there in the

first place.

 However, "no" was clearly not a word Maud was used to hearing. "Why

not?" she demanded rudely.

 I shrugged. "'Cause I'm too lazy." This was very much a hushed confrontation

now, and I wasn't about to back down.

 Neither was Maud. "What if I was your employer?" she demanded snidely.

"And I ordered you to."

 I smirked. "Well, fair enough if I'm getting paid."

 Maud was clearly outraged, and would no doubt have continued the

confrontation, until intervention came from an unexpected quarter.

Tracey.

 "Oh for God's sake, I'll stay behind and do it!" she said, exasperated.

 I was rather touched by that, actually. It felt like she was trying to defuse the

situation and get me out of trouble, which was rather sweet of her (if

misguided, as I was rather enjoying myself).

 "Thank you Tracey. It's nice to know you're not lazy like some people,"

Maud commented bitchily.

 I muttered, "Why don't you do it yourself?" under my breath, but loud enough

for most people (probably Maud too) to hear.

 The punchline, of course, came when everyone else buggered off home before

Tracey could get their details off them as to what they wanted to do!

 "Never mind, Tracey," Maud assured her. "It's not that important. It can wait

till morning."

Bloody women!





Chapter 5 : Bad-Tempered Bastard





I went home feeling rather proud of myself. I'd never done anything like that in

school, so standing up to Maud had felt pretty good - and my folks agreed that

I was 100% in the right, which is always fun.

 The next morning I arrived early enough to catch a seat conveniently next to

Tracey, and we chatted amiably for a while. "Which teacher shall I piss off

today, then?" I asked her.

 "I know, I couldn't believe what you said to Maud last night," Tracey gasped,

almost as if in awe. "You were so... RUDE."

 "Personally, I thought she was being bloody rude," I commented. "Everyone else

can go home, but... IAN... you stay behind," I shook my head. "I don't think so."

 Tracey conceded I had a point.

 "And besides," I grinned, "I'm just a bad-tempered old bugger."

 Tracey grinned.

 Maud said nothing to me about the incident, although later in the day she did

give us all a highly amusing lecture saying that if we felt down or unhappy, we

should keep it to ourselves (now there's healthy psychology) and not spread

it around, as, apparently, "negativity is infectious".

 "If negativity is infectious, then this group's got a terminal case," I quipped to

Tracey. "And I'm patient zero!"

 Tracey laughed. (Typical. Finally, a girl who laughs at my jokes and she's taken).

 It seemed I did not have to worry about a 'Rebecca situation' occurring with

Melissa. I overheard a conversation between her and Rachael about a new boy

she'd met on the weekend and who she was really interested in.

 I breathed an inward sigh of relief. Not that I didn't like Melissa, but not... like

that.

Anyway.

 
 Michael was gone for good. Finally getting thoroughly pissed off, I rang him up

to determine why he hadn't been in touch for so long. I rang twice, just in case

I'd dialled a wrong number.

 

 

Go to part:2 

 

 

Copyright © 1997 Ian Kidd
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"