Sunday, 1 March 2009

Job for the girl...

Chav Towers are making The Teenager do a fortnight's work experience.

I suggest that waking up at 8 a.m. on a Monday morning and questioning your entire existence might give a more accurate picture of what it's like to have a job. She says that won't fill two weeks.

My first thought is to arrange something at the Bonkers Bureaucracy Corporation.

''NO. WAY.'' she yells ''I am NOT going where you work''
"Uh why not?"
''Why do you think? And why do you want me to be a journalist like you?''
''I don't!''
''You do. You're always going on about it''
''I am not always going on about it. I have mentioned it a few times''
''I don't want to be a journalist.
''Why not?''
''Well you're always skint for a start''
''Ok well what about the costume department'?'
''You want to work in fashion''
''It's just boring where you work''
''Boring?'' I pause for dramatic effect... ''Boring? It's the media, how can it be boring?''

The Teenager just rolls her eyes while I am annoyed that whatever I do leaves her unimpressed. I could be partying with Kate Moss and snorting coke off Beth Ditto at the MTV awards and she'd still think I was boring.

Later on in the week we are in the car on the way to school when the subject comes up again.

''I want to do my work experience with a DJ''
''A Deeeee Jaaaaaay. She spells out the words as if I am deaf and dumb
''A radio DJ you mean?''
"No. A club DJ''

I laugh so much I narrowly avoid crashing the car into a Lollipop lady.

''And how do you think that one is going to work?''
''I'll just like, go along, and how he mixes... and stuff''
''Right. And where do you imagine this D. J. is going to be doing that?'' I spell out the 'D' and the 'J' in a similar way to how my 65 year old mother would.
''I don't know. In clubs and stuff?''
''And how do you imagine you're going to get to go in those, what with you being 14 and all?''
''I'll be 15 by the time it happens''
''And your point is?''

And by this time we are outside the gates of Chav Towers and I am filled with the utter joy of being right and The Teenager having no comeback. This never happens.

''Bye then!'' I trill and hand over her lunch money
''Yeah, thanks, bye'' and she opens the car door to get out.
''Maybe you could try and get a placement with Alan Sugar?'' I begin to giggle.
''Alan Sugar. You know, if Pete Tong's not available''
"You're hilarious mother'' she deadpans
''I know! I am aren't I?''
"Fine. I'll do fashion then"
''Oh well that's fine than. I'll just give my mate Stella McCartney a buzz''
''There's nothing wrong with aiming high Mother. I mean, why not?'' And she gets out and slams the door.

I stop laughing pretty fast as I watch her walk to her first lesson of the day. I get a flashback of what it was like to be 14 and have all of life in front of you, pregnant with possibility. A blank canvas ready to fill with whatever you chose. All that choice with no fear.

I drive to work in silence while thinking about the fact that 'Why not?' is also good first lesson of the day for a grown-up.

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