Frozen assets.

Having one’s assets unfrozen is a far more pleasurable experience than it sounds. With a firm job offer made and accepted, suddenly a war chest designated to seeing me through until whenever, a month, a year, who knows, suddenly becomes an amount that has to see me through six weeks. Rather a different kettle of mackerel.

Clearly rushing straight out and blowing three quarters of it on The Glittering Prize would be insanity, but there are more modest targets in the sights, the first being a well deserved weekend away with The Blonde. We took off in The Polite Hatchback and headed for the coast. A nice hotel in Southampton, a little shopping (new suit for work, Paul is too nice for day to day wear and tear), dinner at TFI Friday (how I love their cheese and bacon filled potato skins) followed by an absolutely wonderful day with good friends out on the water in their beautiful powerboat. A high speed burn across the Solent, The Folly on the Isle of Wight for lunch, a pootle up Southampton water and a flypast of a huge cruise liner.

That night was spent in the company of other good friends in their humble lodgings. You’ve seen the little cobbled street of back to back terraces in Coronation Street? Well imagine something as far away from that concept as you can possibly get! Dinner in a lovely local pub, an evening filled with laughter and a good nights sleep saw us up and ready for a day at the Southampton Boatshow. The Blonde threatened to confiscate my wallet but perhaps a new boat is a little premature. Nice to dream though. An evening of more dining out in good company with friends conveniently located on the route home and we finally found ourselves home happy and exhausted around midnight, my now ingrained hypermiling techniques rewarding me with a figure of 63mpg on the Polite Hatchback’s trip computer.

Talking of the Polite Hatchback, as the news of my new appointment spread among friends and relatives I had two potential offers of interest within a matter of days. It had struck me that it was a shame to let such a wonderful condition beautifully looked after car disappear to some unappreciative Joe Public so the idea of someone I knew having it appealed immensely. But a third sliver of interest manifested itself closer to home, and after some careful thought the really good news is that it will be gracing The Blondes driveway sometime next month! I’m chuffed to bits that she’s having it, it’s been an absolutely magnificent car and I know she’ll appreciate it. Yesterday was spent giving it its final coat of wax for the winter and The Blonde has been issued with strict care instructions. Instructions that she wisely immediately delegated. To me.

Next day the post brought the magazine within which I write my column. And what do I find inside? That article I wrote back in July that I’d heard no more about, they’ve printed it! Remarkable. Logging into email brings more news, my first proper official commission from The Editor. What timing. It’s going to be hard to fit that one in now. I write and say I’d be pleased to accept but explain the new job situation. We’ll see if we can’t slot it in somehow.

And the job itself? Well nearly ten days after accepting the position verbally I’d heard nothing. Which didn’t exactly worry me but I’ll admit to a slight itch of concern. This morning I switched my mobile on with the express intention of phoning the Sales Manager only for it to immediately trill into life in my hand. With remarkable timing it was the man himself, could I drop in my P45 and driving licence, and I should expect a formal letter of employment any day. Phew. Good job really with The Glittering Prize ticking quietly away to itself on my wrist as I type this…

Hey, life’s too short to be sensible all the time!

Postscript.

Cleaning the Polite Hatchback on the drive this morning and mulling over the recent events it seems incredible already that only two days ago I was unemployed, quietly hemorrhaging savings, and desperately seeking work. Already it seems a lifetime ago and I’ve not even begun the new position yet!

But just that lift of uncertainty, the cessation of financial concerns (I touched eighty along a dual carriageway on the way home from Blonde Towers last night. Fuel consumption? Didn’t even check), the feeling of general well-being, that all is right with the world once more, I’m in a different place.

I’m not ploughing the job sites this morning, not plotting the next follow up strategy, not hunting down any glimmer of opportunity. Suddenly in my mind I’m not unemployed, I’m merely on holiday. Wonderful. The sun is shining, and not just literally.

The spectre of the job centre no longer hangs heavy either. God, I came to loath that place and all it stood for. Just a bureaucratic mess of inefficiency and inertia, a pen pushing paper shuffling form filling data entering waste of time, effort and money. I shan’t miss getting soaked in the rain just to fulfil my side of the bureaucratic bargain. I shan’t miss the Argos jewellery, tattoos and whiff of last nights cheap lager. And I shan’t miss my fellow claimants either. I can honestly say that the government efforts to “assist” me back into employment (which, after all, is their raison d’etre) amounted to a big fat zero. Utterly hopeless.

As to this blog? Started on a whim and a wish, I’ve been genuinely overwhelmed by so much warmth and generosity from those that are, lets face it, total strangers. It gives me real heart that people clearly care so much, so thank you all. And, as The Blonde wisely pointed out last night, it’s been cathartic too. Writing about the agony of getting so close yet so far, sharing my wretched frustration at the job centre, it’s got it out and put it behind me each time. A good thing.

So where to from here? Well the original intent was to document my journey from redundancy to employment, share the ride. Yet as that journey ends, another one begins. So, buoyed up by so many kind calls for continuation, I’ll keep it updated perhaps once a week or so.

Lets see where the next big adventure takes us.

Stay tuned.

Climb every mountain, Ford every stream…

The meeting with the Ford sales manager went well. Really properly well in fact. We had a good long chat and he was very open and honest about the job, the situation, the rewards and the requirements. The package isn’t quite at Mercedes level admittedly, but it’s one heck of a lot better than my current Job Seekers Allowance that’s for sure!

And the location is 10 minutes from home and there will be a company car (not the given you’d once have assumed for a car sales role surprisingly). And I like the set up there. I like the manager I’m talking to, I’m introduced to one of the other sales guys and he seemed a decent sort too, and the showroom is a cozy inviting honest feeling place of business. There’s none of the sharp suited slick haired plate glass palace pretension of the huge prestige brands, nor the feeling of pressure and expectation. All in all it won’t put a Mercedes C Class or BMW Coupe on my drive, but the positives go an awful long way to making up for it, maybe more than make up for it in fact.

I probed gently about the current application status and again he was very frank. The job is still open and would be for another couple of weeks so clearly there was scope for competition, but at the moment I’m very much in pole position. He’d like to take me up on my offer of working a day or two, see how we fit together (and he makes it clear he wouldn’t be wasting my time or his on that if it weren’t with serious intent of making it full time). And he needs to set up a meeting for me with one of the directors.

So there are still bridges to cross (or streams to, err, Ford. Sorry ’bout that one!) but by and large we’re very much on the front foot and running.

It ain’t over till the proverbial Rubenesque lady sings, I’ve got close before and been disappointed so I’m far from celebrating. But I came away with a good feeling. A strong feeling. Indeed a warm and comfortable feeling. I also came away clutching some brochures, time for a little product knowledge swatting. By this time tomorrow I should be able to tell you exactly what the difference between a Fiesta Zetec and a Fiesta Titanium is, and whether you need the X pack.

And tomorrow (as I write this, today as you read it) I’m back for some showroom time with the boss. I suspect tomorrow will go a long way toward making or breaking this deal.

We press on hopefully.

Rain dance.

It took all day but I finally made contact with the chap from Ford. I’ve an appointment to see him at the end of the week with a view to helping out part time and seeing what comes of it. I believe it’ll be useful experience whatever happens, but clearly the end game from my point of view is to try and gain a full time position through it. It’s progress of sorts though, baby steps.

And in the meantime I’ve applied for a job at a car supermarket, a job as a negotiator with a firm of estate agents, and a position as a sales advisor for a large house building company. Things must be looking up if the house builders have stopped licking their wounds and started recruiting again!

So a few irons gently simmering in a couple of small fires, lets see if we can’t get a bit of a blaze going.

In other news, still nothing from Audi now a fortnight past the day I was told I’d be informed of a final decision. Poor. Nothing from Mercedes in response to my email to them. And not a whisper from any of the recruitment agencies, just what is it that they do to earn a living exactly?

Finally, a missive from The Blonde late yesterday afternoon.

“Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass…It’s about learning
how to dance in the rain”.

And she’s right, lets Tango.

Once more unto the breach.

Back from our weekend away, a very generous and thoughtful birthday gift from The Blonde, bless her. A trip to Bath, a city of great beauty, warmth, culture and class, much like The Blonde herself in fact. We spent a long lazy lovely day exploring the city, picnicking by the river, taking in the sights and sounds and even a tiny bit of very high level window shopping. I’d have to land one heck of a job before I could see myself returning for the Patek Philippe Calatrava 5296G wrist watch or the Bang and Olufsen Beolab 5 speaker system, but it was nice to dream for a while, and one should never ever say never. I returned replete and rested and ready to launch once more into fray of job searching.

It’s been four months now and as the days begin to shorten with the onset of Autumn and we drift into September I feel a strong sense that I’ve had my lazy summer in the sun and feel a real need to get back into employment and generate some real income. I’m also well aware that I’ve let my eye off the ball over the last week or two. I felt so confident about the Mercedes position. The interview just felt so very positive and being asked to progress to the final stage before they’d even finished interviewing gave me a sense that we were merely into final formalities. I still don’t know whether I got the on line psychometric test so very wrong, or whether in fact it was simply a case of being narrowly pipped to the post. Needless to say my request for feedback has been met with silence, which is disappointing if unsurprising.

And so it’s with all of this in mind that I set forth with renewed vigour in my quest. We’re not beaten yet.

My first focus is of course the Ford position. I liked the set up there very much, and the benefit of locality and therefore avoidance of two hours a day commuting is clearly appealing in terms of quality of life. I’m guessing the Sales Manager should be back in office today, and a call mid morning (I don’t want to leap on him the moment he arrives for work for a variety of obvious reasons) is very much in order.

In the meantime a quick job search throws up a car supermarket sales position (specifically requests previous motor trade experience and not terribly appealing as I’d imagine it’s more about processing units than actual selling) and a local vacancy for a Sales Negotiator for a local estate agency (part of a large chain). Neither job makes my heart zing with joy but this is all about landing an income now, I can think about hunting down something specific once I’m back in the proverbial saddle.

With that firmly in mind I fish out a couple of CV’s, draw the computer keyboard toward me, and set to.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more…

The weekend.

The Journalist has been in touch again with a specific task for me so it looks as though at long last I may actually have a commission other than my usual monthly column! Only 200 words though, it’s a filler for an article, but you know what they say about tiny acorns.

I give the matter some thought over the rest of the morning and then set to, crafting a clever and concise rhetoric. I then leave it for an hour and come back to it, I can always spot where it could be improved when I do this and sure enough I spot a couple of areas in need of tidying. Finally when I feel I’ve nailed it to the very best of my ability I copy it to an email and send it to him.

Half an hour later a reply. He thinks it’s excellent, but unfortunately I’ve completely misinterpreted one single piece of information of the original instruction which makes the whole thing completely redundant. Oops! I re-read his original email, he’s quite right, a classic case of adding two and two together and coming up with five. I write back apologising and promise to re-write it.

I find the writing is a piece of cake, it’s formulating the idea in a (hopefully) interesting and concise way that I struggle with. Staring at a keyboard never helps so I go outside and clean the Polite Hatchback whilst letting ideas tumble through my head. By the time I’ve got as far as cleaning the alloy wheels I’m pretty much there in concept, and as I chamois the paintwork I believe I have the detail.

I put the cleaning gear away and head back to my keyboard. Half an hour later I’ve got it down but as ever it’s about twice as long as it wants to be. I spend the next hour pruning and honing until I’ve shrunk it to the required level without losing the context. I’d like to leave it an hour again at this point but I want to get it back up to them today and time is running out. I’m pretty satisfied with it actually so I copy it to another email and fire it up the line.

Tens minute later a reply, he’s really pleased with it and it’s going in the mag. Phew! Job done. I reply thanking him and letting him know I’m eager to have a go at anything else he has in the future and shut down my PC. No idea what I’ll earn from that, not a lot I suppose, but it doesn’t matter. It’s a job well done and in a timely fashion and it could lead to more things, we shall see.

With the Bank Holiday weekend looming I’ve a date with The Blonde, she’s taking me away as a birthday treat. The Polite Hatchack is cleaned, loaded, and fuelled and I’m good to go. So I’m afraid, dear reader, with The Blog now live there’ll be no updates for a day or two.

But next week we shall hit the ground running together. We’ve Ford to tackle head on and the whole job seeking merry go round to leap aboard again.

In the meantime, have a great weekend!

The waiting game.

Well for the first time ever I have nothing saved in the “to publish” file, and nothing really to write.

No news yet from Mercedes, which isn’t unexpected but is leaving plenty of scope for second guessing and sleepless nights.

I did consider calling them yesterday for an update but decided that it was too soon, and in any case they seem the sort of professional well run organisation that will be in touch as a matter of course as soon as there is any news either way. So there’s nothing to do but sit and wait.

In other news, after receiving the email from The Journalist regarding the article I’m supposed to be co-writing with him, there’s been a brief exchange along the lines of he’ll be in touch when he needs my input, but nothing more. I’ve pretty much lost faith with the whole writing malarkey. After nearly four months I can’t help thinking that if it were going to happen it wold have done so by now. I find things have a habit of either working out, or not. And it’s not. Certainly if I get a full time job I think it’ll be time to put the writing aspirations behind me for the moment, which seems a shame but there it is.

It’s now a week past the date Audi told me they’d let me know their decision on employment with them. I’ve not chased them up due to the Mercedes situation but I’m surprised not to have heard.

The chap from Ford is back from holiday next week so my current thinking is very much hope I hear from Mercedes this week (and going on my very positive experience of how they’ve expedited matters so far I feel sure I will), and if that’s a bust go for the Ford job all guns blazing and hope it sticks.

Finally The Blonde is back from her adventures and it’s nice to be spending some time with her again. I’ve missed her more than I realised, which is a good feeling.

And that’s about the size of it. I will of course update the blog the minute Mercedes phone (either way), and in the meantime I shall keep watching the clock, my phone within reach and my fingers crossed.

The Audi interview.

I’d emailed the sales manager of Universal Audi pretty much immediately I’d received the message suggesting he’d be in touch. I had momentum and I wasn’t going to drop it. I said that I understood he’d be contacting me regarding an interview and that I would be happy to make myself available at a time to suit him.

An email duly arrived back suggesting the following afternoon and I gladly responded in the affirmative.

The next twenty four hours dragged, but eventually I was back in the Paul Smith and back in the Polite Hatchback and back on the road, heading for Audi. The dealership was an hour away, this would be some commute each day but I wasn’t in a position to be fussy about it, it’d just be something I’d have to grin and bear. I arrived twenty minutes early and hid in the next street, watching the minutes tick off, engine ticking over to keep the air con running. The last thing I needed was to turn up hot and sweaty. I listened to Steve Wright on Radio Two for fifteen minutes, then one last check on my appearance and it was time to make my move.

The dealership was situated on a modern retail estate and typically Audi, high vaulted ceiling, plate glass walls to the front and sides of the showroom, plenty of designer grey exposed metalwork and an expansive range of expensive metal parked outside. I parked in a vacant customer space, took a deep breath and left the sanctuary of the quiet leather lined interior of my car and headed for the main entrance.

Entering the double doors everything was classic Audi corporate dealership. Grey slate floor tiles, light wood back walls, and a reserved air of hush and stillness. A quiet place of worship, a church of German automotive deities. Over to my far right a sales exec was deep in conversation with a middle aged couple at his desk, to my left another couple were alone, quietly examining a brand new silver A3 Sportback.

I approached reception and gave my name to the obligatory slim smiley receptionist and explained I’d come to see Mr. Finch. She smiled some more and said she’d let him know I was here, before heading over to a door at the rear of the showroom in a sashay of black pencil skirt and high heels.

A few seconds later she was back, Mr. Finch was rather tied up but had asked her to let me know he’d be with me as soon as he could. I thanked her and took my leave as her phone rang in a subtle muted fashion.

Looking around the showroom there was a mix of models on display, but my eye was drawn to the A5 Cabriolet at the far end by the window. Squatting there purposefully and finished in a pearl effect Phantom black it looked discreet yet classy, expensive without being flash, every inch of it subtly styled to perfection. I strolled across and tugged the the door handle, electric window sighing down an inch to break the tight seal against the roof and allow the heavy door to swing easily open. I squatted by the car and breathed in the heady new Audi aroma, my eyes sweeping across the immaculately finished dashboard, a gently curved cliff of carefully considered switchgear, black solidity lifted by subtle flashes of brushed aluminium. Gorgeous. I slid inside, feeling the sports seats firm yet oh so comfortable embrace, running my fingertips over the stitching of the ergonomically designed leather covered steering wheel, rolling and clicking the tactile onboard computer and hi fi controls positioned on the steering wheel spokes. This is what Audi is about, a three dimensional feast for the senses, the look, the feel, the smell all honed to absolute perfection.

I climbed out and swung the door gently shut, window sighing back up snugly against the roof. I walked slowly around the car, there is not one angle at which this car looks anything less than spot on, it has to be one of the most subtle classy and above all beautiful four seater convertibles on the planet. I always thought my A4 Cabriolet would take some beating, but this does it. Then again, at close to forty thousand pounds, it ought to.

Eventually I was approached by a young chap in a sharp suit, the man I’d come to see. He shook my hand and apologised for the delay, seems they were two salesmen down that day, one out on test drive and the one left in the showroom trying to juggle three sets of customers and do a deal with one of them. He ushered me to his office and sat behind a large desk piled with papers and forms.

We began to chat, punctuated now and then by a very apologetic salesman dashing in for a quick and necessary decision on the deal he was embarked on with his customers. The sales manager apologised to me but I assured him it was business first, and not a problem to me. Through the interview I tried my hardest to impart my enthusiasm and understanding of the brand and all it stood for but somehow I just didn’t entirely feel I held his full attention. I felt like offering to come back another day when things were a little less manic but I knew it was now or never so I plugged on.

After twenty minutes we’d run out of useful things to say and I could feel that he was itching to get back out into the fray. We stood and shook hands and left his office together, me heading for the exit and he for the little group clustered around the far desk, keen to strike that deal.

The hours drive home again gave plenty of time for reflection. There were certainly no negative notes, but were there enough positive? I’d done all I could to push my cause, but was it enough? Impossible to say really, time would tell.

Back home I dropped him a quick email thanking him for his time and reiterating my enthusiasm. There was no answer.

This was going to be another waiting game clearly.

Vorsprung Durch Email.

My passion for Audi had carried me as far as a contact and an email address. It was time to work that passion up some more. This was going to be no ordinary “I don’t suppose you’d happen to…” email to be met by an equally ordinary “sorry, nothing doing” reply. I’d been given a small lever and by thunder I was going to lean on it, see if I couldn’t prise open a gap big enough to fit into.

Back home I made myself some lunch and mulled over the form the email was to take, working out how best to word and phrase it. I had to avoid looking like I was begging for a job, keep it professional, but it had to be shot through with the message that here was someone with four rings running through him, someone who could take the Audi baton and run with it, someone who they needed every bit as much as I needed them.

I washed up, headed to my study, pulled the keyboard toward me and began to write.

The trick was not to bore the poor woman to tears so that she simply scanned across the rest of the mail after the first couple of sentences, I needed to catch her attention, draw her in.

I started with a quick idea of what I was about, a very brief history of my career summary, then went on to my love of Audi cars, the fact I’d personally chosen them myself for the last ten years, then finished up with the current situation and hopefully imparted the feeling that they could really use a guy like me.

Half an hour later a reply pinged back thanking me for my interest but stating that they were only looking for a salesman for one of their dealerships, and previous motor-trade experience was an essential requirement.

Not good enough.

I bent to my keyboard again, “suggesting”, as politely as possible, that this was bunkum. What they really wanted was someone with a proven track record of successful customer handling and the ability to enthuse about the brand with real belief. It was my last chance and I put my all behind it.

After re-reading and fine tuning until I was happy I’d made my point as nicely yet as strongly and positively as possible I was about to hit send when I noticed that her original email was copied to what I presumed were the sales managers of the groups dealerships. Hmmm… there’s a potential audience here. I pressed “reply to all” instead, lets spread the word.

The email whirred away into the ether and I sat back, arms folded. This was my final shot, all or nothing.

Another thirty minutes passed and then with a soft double tone the reply dropped into my email in box.

You are certainly persistent!
John Finch, Sales Manager at Universal Audi, will invite you to an interview shortly, over to you to convince him, good luck!

Result!!

Now that’s how to sell.

Vorsprung Durch Tequnik.

The weekend rolls around again. The Blonde has taken her boys on some mad activity adventure holiday where they get to go sailing and canoeing, climb hills, ford streams, abseil down cliffs, scramble over rocks, trek through forests and generally get dirty, muddy, bashed, bruised and bloodied. I was invited but I think when I asked how many stars the hotel was The Blonde realised that perhaps it wasn’t quite my thing. (I think they’re probably sleeping in mud huts or something).

So she’s left me to my own devices and headed off for the desolate wilderness of Wales, leaving me to contemplate life, the universe, and everything.

It’s hard to believe we’re halfway through August already and harder still to believe that I’ve been looking for work for a quarter of a year now. The routine of office life seems a distant memory and much as I enjoyed what I did I’m surprised how little I miss it. I’ve a strong sense of “been there, done that now” and I’m happier than I expected to leave it all behind and forge a new path. Just need to try and make a bit more progress on the forging.

Talking of which…

At the end of last week I spotted another job! Fast becoming a rare sighting I leapt on this one immediately. Estate agency again, senior negotiator for a firm in a town an easy half hour from home. I donned the suit and tie, crafted a letter to go with the CV and struck out expectantly.

The shop was located in busy pedestrianised high street and was a bright modern fit-out, plenty of light ash and pastel shades as is the norm these days. I was greeted by a nice lady who happily turned out to be the manager, bingo! I explained the purpose of my visit and handed over the envelope containing the necessary. She seemed happy to chat and we had a brief but positive discussion about my previous employ and the reason for me job seeking. She was appropriately sympathetic at the news of my redundancy and even went so far as to enquire whether I might be available for interview in a couple of days? I assured her I would make myself available any time to suit and we shook hands cordially as I took my leave.

That went well I mused as I walked back through the precinct to the car park where the Polite Hatchback waited. Politely.

As I eased out through the traffic I had an idea. Nearby in this town was the Audi garage where I’d sourced a couple of my company cars in the past. I love Audis, I had four of them in a row over the last ten years, a couple of fast turbocharged A3 hatchbacks, and latterly a beautiful A4 Cabriolet with a few nice toys and finished in a stunning midnight blue metallic. I loved that car and was very sorry to see it go when eventually I was taxed out of it by our good leader “Prudence” Brown. Odd, he seems to have dropped that particular nomenclature of late…

When it was announced I was being made redundant one of the first things I did was write to every Audi dealership within range. The idea of surrounding myself in Vorsprung Durch Tequnik every day was an attractive one, and the idea of another Audi company car hardly a turn off either. Needless to say my enquiries had been met by silence, but I decided it wouldn’t hurt to call in whilst I was in the area, see the chap that sold me my cars, and gently put the feelers out.

I swung onto the forecourt and immediately it brought back memories of happier times. Since I was a schoolboy obsessed with cars I’d always wanted a new registration on the day it came out, I used to look out for them on August 1st (as was the plate year change back then) to see if I could spot any lucky owners. Six years ago when I ordered that cabriolet I fulfilled a lifetimes ambition of my very own convertible (that took some negotiating on its own to get past the board), and I’d decided to delay taking delivery until 1st March for the sake of that excitable car obsessed schoolboy that still lurks within me. The salesman had picked me up in a huge limo like Audi A8 first thing, and by ten o’clock we’d done the handover and I had pulled off the forecourt with the roof down, new plate on the new day. I wonder if any schoolboys noticed it?

Entering the showroom there was no sign of my old friend who’d sold me my dream, and when I asked at reception I was told that he’d retired last year and she went to find someone to look after me. I loitered next to a Meteor Grey metallic Audi TT Roadster in the centre of the showroom. Roof down displaying its soft supple Chennai brown thick stitched Impulse leather I was reminded exactly what it was about Audi that made me go gooey. The shape and form and the sheer attention to detail alights my passion for absolute precision and engineering perfection that also stokes my love of fine Swiss mechanical watches. Even the aroma has a flavour all Audi’s own, and yes, even that is carefully engineered.

A young chap came out and asked if he could help and I explained that sadly I wasn’t there to buy a car today and explained my position. He was most helpful and informed me that, as they are part of a group, recruitment was all dealt with centrally now. I asked if he could furnish me with a name and a contact email address. He disappeared for a moment and came back with a business card for the person in question. Yes, an in! I thanked him profusely, shook his hand, and bid him good day.

Reluctantly tearing myself away from that TT I headed home. I was already formulating in my mind the email I’d write, I was going for this one all guns blazing.