Just to begin with, i'd like to inform everybody who is actually taking the time to read this, that if you happen to be from Liverpool, you may or may not be offended.
Now, as for why I am here.
I got myself an apprenticeship with National Tires and Autocare, probably a well known company to you, however before I could enter the workplace as an apprentice I had to complete my first week here. In bootle. "Training"
Being the person I am I was nervous, so much so that my arse was clenched tighter than a working class wallet, Crude I know, but accurate.
Despite being nervous I pulled my bag out of the boot and said my goodbyes as I walked into the hotel where I would spend the next week; the Breeze Guesthouse.
When I arrived I was told my roommate was already here and that i was in room seven, so up I went, up three flights of stairs much steeper than the average set of stairs, so when I finally arrived at my room I was knackered, I knocked on the door hoping that I wouldn't be confronted by some greasemonkey gorilla. No. I wasn't, it was worse.
At first I did a double take, but then I adjusted my gaze, by about 6 inches to the south.
Here stood "Sean Kelly" a chubby, bald, short, Scouse lump of... discomfort.
My first impression was one of extreme body odour, a grubby tracksuit and that annoying Scouse whine.
So in I walked in and claimed a bed, conveniently the one closest to the window, I dropped my bag and sat down.
I was already unsure if I had the willpower to speak to my 'roommate' but I did anyway, introducing myself as Isaac Wass, to which I got a reply of 'I can't believe they haven't even got an iron, look at the creases in my clothes' I looked across to see a pile of neatly folded clothes, I would need a team of scientists and a government grant to make equipment smart enough to find a crease in those clothes.
I slumped on my bed, defeated and annoyed, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and was dismayed to find that barely 4 minutes had passed since i arrived at the hotel.
I immediately grabbed the room key and went for a walk after being informed by the irritating housekeep that dinner would be at seven.
Before the door to the hotel had even closed I had dialed my mothers number and was requesting to come home.
Initial impression; horrible.
The first night was in all honesty sickening.
A mixture of nerves, body odour and getting pissed off at the Scouse accent led to me to getting just under 2 hours sleep.
Guess who was moody the next day?
So I wake up at half past five in the morning to a cacophony of snoring, banging and general noise making.
Great, my roommates a one man band.
So here I am at 5:30 on a miserable Monday morning with a one man band giving me a personal performance, what am I supposed to do?
Facebook? No wifi.
YouTube? No wifi.
Movie? No wifi.
I look across to my right to see a little 16 inch TV staring back at me with that "haha I'm you're only option" air about it.
So I regrettably turn on the TV to be met by the last channel it was used for. Gay Rabbit.
Well this certainly gives me a lot to think about, for instance... who stayed in this room before me? Or, what happened in this room before I arrived? Or, Has it been disinfected? I would personally prefer burnt but thats just not environmentally friendly.
First day arrives at 8:45AM, after a quick morning phone call to my girlfriend i was round at the training centre with a folder full of sheets, and a passport so they could check if I were from the UK, in my opinion they have a bit of a complex going on; Half of Liverpool has been produced as a byproduct of government experimentation, hence the mixed accent, wonky eyes and various deformities, yet they want to check if I'm from the UK?
Next comes a morning of HR related crap "sign here, here, here and let me take your liver" after that we were met by a brusque but likeable Scouse (a rare breed) seemingly with tourettes, who slammed down an incredibly large folder down infront of each of us with a comment of (and I quote) "there's your fucking social life gone for two years" how nice.
We got the rest of the afternoon being fed gumph about what was to follow the day after - health and safety (gumph)
Day two, again my lack of sleep is a contributing factor to my headaches, general aches, and a very severe ache which has now been officially diagnosed as "kelly-ache" after its benefactor, Sean Kelly.
The morning starts with my daily rendition of "I'm having a fit but don't do anything because my sleep-laughter means I'm enjoying it" from what I've heard its not a song much suited to those of us who value our hearing in later life.
After a shower and the morning basics, which apparently include a full eight minute lecture (yes, I timed it) about how hard it is to brush teeth with braces, the term "say it don't spray it" is one I would hope to get across to my roommate by the end of the week.
So there I am at the training centre for 8:45AM as I was the day before, only to be met by an entirely new character. Meet Phil, I would tell you his last name if only I could remember it, I was too busy trying to distract myself from a certain similarity between him and my old primary school head teacher. The difference being Mr Taylor didn't look like he was on a massive high.
After being sat down for half an hour I had a list (literally the length of my arm, a full A4 sheet!) Of things that could kill me before I'm aged fifty in the workplace.
I had this bloke for the rest of the day, 9:31AM and I'm scared to let go of my pen in fear of it hitting the table and causing a plastic shard to impale itself in my eyeball causing "excessive internal brain hemorrhaging" which is no laughing matter by any means.
It does, however, pale in comparison to the next few moments which in my opinion should be written down in the comedic history books.
Now as old people often do, Phil decided to sidetrack and tell us how he hates his job as he gets paid very little and is often criticized for the way he teaches health and safety furthermore he continues to tell us about how in three previous cases he has been fired for misconduct whilst informing apprentices.
After a shiver and a drink out of a mysterious flask, he hits his next slide and shows us a picture of an overly inflated testicle stating "this perfectly reiterates what I've just been saying" and leaves to get a drink, leaving us staring at an unhealthy set of mismatched male genetailia and wondering how it reiterates anything he has previously told us.
3:30PM learning over, workshop tomorrow. Success, atleast... it is a success until i go to use the toilet of my hotel room only to find an unflushed, pube covered toilet!
When I confront Sean about this he simply replies with a "sorry" and stares at me blankly like nothing wrong has happened.
He then stands up and waits for me to look at him and asks "please can I go to the toilet" let me give you a basic reenactment of what my face did.
At first i laughed, hoping he was taking the piss. Then my jaw dropped, soon to shut again when I started to taste the stench of the still unflushed toilet. My eyebrows then began to rise, followed by my eyelids, leaving my eyeballs popping from my skull.
All the while, Sean stood passively and watched, waiting for an answer.
After coming to my senses I said yes to which he dashed through like a little girl who's held it in too long, from within the depths of said bathroom come grunts and noises not meant for the ears of humans.
With no running water or flushing, Sean "smelly" Kelly (as I now like to call him) comes out of the bathroom, my face once again resumed its former position before I said "you forgot to flush" to which I received a reply of "sorry" and that same blank stare that says "I was born on mushrooms" after convincing him to flush AND wash his hands (praise the lord) he went to bed, only to resume his snoring and various nighttime activities.
Which leaves me here at 12:53AM writing a blog to inform the world of my agony. I beg of anyone, anyone, to come rescue me from this whitewashed prison of smells, bacteria and most likely disease.
More to come after my day in the workshop.
