Who said things in Britain don't run on time?

The trains may be slower than a chav trying to read his ASBO and the buses clearly follow a timetable that's based on chaos theory, but there is at least one British institution that runs bang on time: The Job Centre. Unfortunately the only way I was able to find this out was to arrive three or four minutes late for my appointment. Yep, I arrived at around 3:24 for a 3:20 appointment, was spoken to like a primary school pupil who'd missed the end of play-time bell and told that my appointment would have to be rescheduled for next week. Rough paraphrasing of the conversation:

Receptionist: (not looking up from her paper) Hello?
Me: Hi, I'm a couple of minutes late, sorry. I have an appointment for 3.20.
Receptionist: (grudgingly tearing herself away from lurid tales of celebrity scandal and The X-Factor) What's the appointment for?
Me: A new claim.
Receptionist: (sensing blood) I'll need to see if the lady can still take you, you're late.
Me: I know, I'm sorry, but it's only a couple of minutes. The phone rang just as I was getting ready to leave the house and I thought I should answer it just in case it was a response to one of the jobs I've applied for. (note: this is true, however it was just some douche-bag of a salesman - aren't they supposed to call around tea-time?)
Receptionist: (clearly unimpressed) Where have you come from today?
Me: Blah Blah Street. (about ten or fifteen minutes walk from the Job Centre)
Receptionist: (going into patronising teacher mode) Well, you haven't got much reason to be late then, have you? We'll probably have to see you on another day.
Me: (Pulling out a large hand cannon and leaving a steaming, bloody mess where her head used to be) Fuck you.

OK, I made that final part up, otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here now writing this post. In reality I asked why my appointment had been changed in the first place (at their request), looked on in disbelief when they said it was to make things easier for me, and decided not to create a scene because I didn't want to jeopardise my claim. The whole situation felt like something out of a cringeworthy mockumentary like The Office and, if nothing else, has provided fantastic blogging material.

I understand that they have a schedule to run to but the place was half empty. I don't think it's even the fact that my appointment was rescheduled that's the most annoying part, it's the way they speak to you as if your either an imbecile or some kind of sub-human scum. I imagine that they have some nightmare situations to deal with but does that mean they have to treat everyone like shite?

All that I can say in closing is that I will never again bitch about people who manage to screw the system - more power to them. It does a grand job of screwing us. It's great to be back in Blighty.

Surely there's a more effective way

I decided on Monday that it was time to sign on, so off I toddled to my local Job Centre. I've only ever done this once before, the last time I came back to the UK. That was five years ago and as far as I can remember I went along to the Job Centre, filled out some forms, had an interview and promised that I'd do my best to find gainful employment (the fact that I ended up working in a Shell Garage is a story for another day).

I imagined that it would be much the same this time but when I got the Job Centre and explained my situation I was given a leaflet and told to phone the number on it. Apparently the good person at the other end of the line would take me through some questions and an interview lasting 40 minutes. Clearly, the Job Centre's idea of an interview and my own differ. The 'interview' was basically some harassed but pleasant woman going through the questions that I'm sure were on the form five years ago, and me saying "yes" or "no." After about twenty minutes of this she then read me the part at the end where you say that you aren't lying and told me that I'd soon receive a copy of the statement we'd just gone through which I'd have to plant my big inky hand print on (because obviously too thick to write my own name). I have to take this statement with me tomorrow when I go back to the Job Centre for my next interview. Can't wait to see how it goes.