My first job after leaving school, and a short-lived disastrous ill-advised spell at college, was at a telecommunications company in Gorton. I was interviewed by Paul Emson in February 1985. I'd had various interviews before this but, having no work experience behind me, all were unsuccessful
I will always be grateful to Paul for giving me a chance and I believe I didn't let him down. I started as a warehouse assistant so my duties included taking in deliveries, stacking shelves and monitoring stock etc. I didn't have a driving licence then so I walked to work there and back everyday from the family home in Clayton which was around a 6 mile a day round trip "on the hoof" in all weathers. The only part of this that bothered me was getting my mullet hairdo wet.
I was the youngest employee in the warehouse/office so was given a tough time by some of the engineers, including once being bound in masking tape like a "mummy", then thrown in an industrial bin, spun around several times then left out on the road. My cries for help were only answered around half an hour later by a passing engineer, but it took him ages to find where my shouts were coming from and then to unwrap me. My complaints afterwards to the engineers were answered with remarks like "you need toughening up you little wimp".
There was a driver called Mick Gaskell who always tried to stick up for me and mentor me with his wisdom. I very much appreciated this at the time but Mick also liked his little wisecracks including regularly saying "Right, pay attention young 'un I've got a list of things for you to do here that's longer than your hair". For my hair at this time think of Bono at Live Aid.
In January 1986 the warehouse in Gorton was closed and I was moved to to an office in Stockport amid rumours the company was in financial trouble. This was denied by the management but the following month I was called in to see the Managing Director who broke the news that I was to be made redundant with immediate effect. The company was indeed in trouble and a young female colleague and I were the first to be chopped. I was devastated. On the bus on the way home I shed a tear as the realisation I was now back on the dole hit me.
Within a month I had bagged another job, this time in a stores area for an electronics firm in Moss Side. They worked out of a grim Victorian building and the basement where I was based was akin to a dungeon complete with dark cobwebbed corners and narrow passageways. This job, basically, involved weighing, counting and packing electronic parts for delivery. The monotony was only broken by access to a radio tuned to Radio 1 and also listening to the ludicrous outlook on life of my fellow workers. Some had been doing this job for years, some used to find a dark corner and have an afternoon nap. It was very easy paced and, although unfulfilled, I was reasonably happy for a while..until it all went pear shaped(this would become a recurring theme for the next 25 years). This was 1986 and the management style of the owner was carried out in a way which simply wouldn't be tolerated now. He was a dictatorial tyrant who ruled with aggression and fear. Unfortunately, one day he sent for me out of the dungeon to help him. After witnessing him humiliating an employee for the 5th or 6th time I couldn't take anymore.
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