A Friday Odyssey

Today is an oddity.

It's not my usual signing-on day, yet here I am, leaping up the steps to the JC. Why? Because the referral to the latest external career specialist has resulted in a 2-hour coaching session, held at the JC. This is a one-to-one exercise and we have been promised a private office. I do hope so. Bearing my professional soul in the middle of the zoo that is the ground floor does not appeal.

The young security guard flashes a welcoming smile at me and I'm not sure if I am more dazzled by his teeth or his diamond earrings. Haven't seen him in quite a while. He's quite a charmer and I suspect he prefers the company of the more fragrant female staff on The Mysterious First Floor.

Having ascertained that my Career Coach has yet to arrive (by bellowing my name and my business across the floor to Crumpled Brenda), the Be-jeweled One directs me to the usual waiting area.

It's exceptionally quiet. Perhaps the appointments are deliberately wound down on a Friday afternoon. It's quiet enough that I can overhear the conversation between Adorable Emma and another JC advisor. I love the way they call us punters 'customers'. The last time I experienced such surreal customer service was in the early days of NTL.

I wait. And wait. My guy is late. A 'phone rings and rings. No-one answers it. I have skimmed all the newspapers and am now bored. My mobile shows a voicemail from the Consultant. His garbled message confirms he is in one of those wading-through-treacle car journeys that usually only happen in nightmares. Or Friday afternoons, if you take the wrong turning off the A31.

Man Mountain spots me waiting and looks puzzled. It's worrying when the security staff know what day you usually come in. I try to look poised and unconcerned, very much like when you know you've been stood-up.

Poor Aaron* falls though the door, sweating and mortified about being 30 minutes late. He apologises profusely and says that he tried ringing the JC so they could pass a message onto me but that no-one answered the 'phone. Funny, that.

The two hours I spend with Aaron are the most constructive I have experienced within the confines of the JC. The coaching is all about hitting-the-ground-running after redundancy and how to get your campaign together, rather than passively joining the flow of the masses. Why, I ask, is this not available in the first few weeks then? He shakes his head and says he is tired of telling the DWP that they should refer ALL redundant execs within the first few weeks, but no-one seems to listen. Here I am, five months into unemployment hell and only now am I really getting to hear how to go about campaigning effectively. The only reason I am here is from networking. A contact of a contact went on one of their sessions and raved about it. It had never been suggested by anyone at my JC, even though they clearly have a partner agreement in place with them. What is going on? Why is this all such a big secret? Is it really about saving money (I appreciate the DWP fund these sessions), or is it mere incompetence? Apathy? It makes my blood boil that redundant execs are having to rely on the Chinese whispers of the networking system to access these services.

After 90 minutes I am done-in. It's pretty intense and we spend the last 30 minutes re-capping. I take my leave of Aaron and am already mentally compiling a list of contacts to inform about this company and what they offer.

Man Mountain and Crumpled Brenda are doing their usual double-act at the door, which I note is broken again. I do hope they don't spend more money getting it fixed. I would hate them to have to dip into the Essential Leaflet Fund. Goodness, where would we be then?

*Name has been changed