Me Life Story by Scarlett Moffatt (best classic books of all time txt) 📗

time, like a big, massive walkie-talkie. He’d have the same crack every time. He’d come in and you’d go, ‘You all right?’

‘Yeah, been listening to the ambulances.’

‘Right …’

‘And I’ve been listening to the police as well.’

‘You know that’s illegal. You know you’re not supposed to do that.’

‘Yeah, I know, but I’ve just heard there’s two lorries that collided out there.’

‘Ooh, right. Have a good day, then.’

And the next day, he would come in and tell literally the same story about the lorries. Every day, every single day he would come in and I’d be like, ‘What’s been happening?’

‘There’s two lorries that collided out there.’

‘Ooooh, God. Have a nice day.’ Every day!

He was harmless really, but everyone in the store would be like, ‘Oh God, I got lumbered with him today.’

‘Don’t say it like that,’ I’d reply. ‘He’s just a bit nutty, do you know what I mean? He’s not hurting anyone, he’s not really listening to the police. He just wants attention, and then he’s on his way again.’ He’d literally just come in to buy a can of pop, I think just to talk to people.

I used to love him. He was one of the reasons I was so upset when I finally had to stop working there. I was starting university and it would have been too much travelling home. I would miss the little old lady Margaret too; she would always be so excited for her trip with her carer to the store. She used to chat to all of us checkout girls, telling us about what she had been knitting or watching on the television. It’s so nice to cheer people up and put a smile on someone’s face if you can.

This may be overstating it, but in a way working in stores or retail is a sort of social service. I just think honestly sometimes you were the only person that those people would speak to all day, sometimes all week. You don’t know what’s going on in someone’s life so if you can give a little smile and be kind you don’t know the difference you will make to that person’s day. As a tale in Aesop’s Fables once said:

‘No act of kindness, no matter how small,

is ever wasted.’

Chapter Ten

IRONY: GETTING BURGLED DRESSED AS A BURGLAR

In 2011, a crowd of 3,872 people in Dublin, Ireland, broke the record for the largest gathering of people dressed as ‘Where’s Wally?’. The feat took place at the Street Performance World Championship in the city.

In 2010, York University fined its hockey club £200 after it made students drink a concoction of dog food, anchovies, raw eggs and goldfish.

The University of York has a higher density of ducks than any other university.

I wanted to become a dance teacher originally and own my own dance school. That was what I had always dreamed of. The summer after I’d done my A levels at Queen Elisabeth Sixth Form (where I had received three qualifications including an A in Dance), I sat on my sofa at home with my huge, heavy Dell laptop, refreshing the page to UCAS for about two hours when I finally got the confirmation through. ‘You have been accepted into York St John’s University.’

I was eighteen and was going be a YSJ student, class of 2009. I was the first person in my family to go to university. I was so excited. I enrolled in the dance degree; although nowhere in Britain covered ballroom and Latin, York St Johns did do ‘contemporary dance’. Now this is an art I can appreciate and love watching – however, actually dancing in a room full of strangers, pretending to interpret a tree swaying in the wind or a mole-rat burrowing to safety, I can positively say it wasn’t for me.

After eight weeks of the degree, everyone’s parents were invited down to see our Christmas dance show. My nanny Christine and Mam came down and they said afterwards the best bit was the mulled wine and mince pies. I came out dressed as a giant panda wearing a red jacket and a black leather briefcase, swinging my arms and walking in straight lines. Even through the panda eyes I could see my mam and nanny crying, not with pride but with laughter. To be honest I felt like joining in.

‘What was all that about?’ my nanny asked.

‘I was meant to represent a human who felt enclosed and caged by society. Work was my life and just like a panda in a zoo I was being watched constantly by CCTV.’ Deadly serious, I looked at them both, waiting for the expressions on their faces to change to understanding.

‘Load of bloody shite.’

I had to agree with my nanny, it really wasn’t me at all. The other girls were so passionate and I loved them for it. But I was just going through the motions. I am not one to give up but I knew over the Christmas holidays I needed to look into changing my course.

I knew I wanted to teach children but all the courses for early years were taken. But that didn’t stop me. I kept looking, and one day, when I was out with all the family for Sunday dinner – me mam, dad and little Ava – I was ready to make an announcement. ‘I’ve looked into it and I’m going to have to do a three-year course with subjects that are on the curriculum, like English, maths and physical education, and then do a PGCE to become a teacher. There’s a course that looks really good: it’s physical education and sports coaching, I get to do placements with special educational needs children and it also includes dance. What do you think?’

‘Go for it, kid. You are great with children and they always seem to love you,’ said Mam.

‘Aw thanks, I will then. I’ll do it.’

So I enrolled on a physical