Circus Top Shop on Saturdays and it’s not like anyone from one of the posh agencies has picked her out to be one or anything (probably ’cos she has front teeth like a llama).
So I saw Mr. Brightwell and he asked if I was thinking of staying in education and I said no and he said, “What about an NVQ?”
And I said, “No I want to get a job in JD Sports or somewhere ’cos I want to earn some proper money.”
So Mr. Brightwell said how am I coming on with math and English GCSE?
And I said, “Dunno, ask my teachers.”
And he said, “Well, it’s difficult to get your foot in the door in retail without a math and English GCSE, Shiraz.”
So I said, “Well if I can’t get a job in a shop or something I’m going to be on telly as I think I’m quite unique and the stuff I do is proper mad.”
Mr. Brightwell sighed quite loudly then and said, “Like what?”
And I said, “Well I always say exactly what I think and if I was on a TV show I would definitely cause drama ’cos I say what I think to people’s faces.”
So Mr. Brightwell said, “Well that’s not enough to make a career out of, Shiraz.”
And I said, “Well, how come Tabitha Tennant from Dagenham who got kicked off
Big Brother
for breaking rules was in the
Sun
last week saying she made two-point-two MILLION QUID last year just from stuff like her new TV show called
Tabitha’s Tantrums
on Living TV where they just film her doing stuff like getting her hair done and going around being well gobby.” I said I could TOTALLY do that ’cos if I went on
Big Brother
I’d cause more friction than Tabitha.
Mr. Brightwell looked really depressed then and said every girl in Essex wanted to be Tabitha Tennant but that was “cloud cuckoo land” and we needed to think of a more “viable option for the future.” He typed all of my strengths and weaknesses into the computer and some of my “guesstimated” grades for GCSE too and said that he would help me find a work placement to give me a taste of the job world. When I looked at the paper what he’d printed out it said:
Tilak Foods — Unit 57, Bishop Fledding Industrial Estate, Goodmayes.
Mr. Brightwell said it was a small factory that supplies foods like samosas and pakoras and stuff to newsstands and gas station refrigerator sections. He said I should write them a letter to see if they can give me a job. I took the piece of paper and left the IT lab and felt a bit weird.
Mr. Brightwell is rubbish. I don’t know how he has a job.
FRIDAY 7TH MARCH
We got to meet Cava-Sue’s boyfriend, Lewis, tonight!!! Well, for about fourteen seconds. That’s all Cava-Sue would let us see of him and even then she was standing in front of him in the living room door answering all our questions like he had learning difficulties. He’s called Lewis and he is studying Art A-Level, that’s all we got to know.
Mum blackmailed Cava-Sue to bring him home ’cos she said she would only lend Cava-Sue a tenner to go out with Lewis if we could all have a butcher’s at him. Mum said this Lewis could be a bloody psycho or anything for all that we knew. Mum kept moaning on that when she met Dad in 1985 she brought him home to meet her mother within a fortnight for a cup of tea. “Didn’t I, Brian?” my mum kept saying. “You came and met my mother and had a cuppa after a fortnight? You remember, Brian?”
My dad made a face like he definitely DID remember. I don’t remember Mum’s mum at all ’cos she died when I was like three or something but Dad always says that me and Cava-Sue take after her ’cos “she called a spade a spade too,” whatever that means. Dad says the first time he went round to see his future mother-in-law, the first thing Gran did was look at his hair and pull a face, then open up her handbag and pull out a comb and say, “I reckon you’ll be needing this.”
Lewis ain’t much to write home about. The blokes at Cava-Sue’s college can’t be up to much if this is the best she can
So I saw Mr. Brightwell and he asked if I was thinking of staying in education and I said no and he said, “What about an NVQ?”
And I said, “No I want to get a job in JD Sports or somewhere ’cos I want to earn some proper money.”
So Mr. Brightwell said how am I coming on with math and English GCSE?
And I said, “Dunno, ask my teachers.”
And he said, “Well, it’s difficult to get your foot in the door in retail without a math and English GCSE, Shiraz.”
So I said, “Well if I can’t get a job in a shop or something I’m going to be on telly as I think I’m quite unique and the stuff I do is proper mad.”
Mr. Brightwell sighed quite loudly then and said, “Like what?”
And I said, “Well I always say exactly what I think and if I was on a TV show I would definitely cause drama ’cos I say what I think to people’s faces.”
So Mr. Brightwell said, “Well that’s not enough to make a career out of, Shiraz.”
And I said, “Well, how come Tabitha Tennant from Dagenham who got kicked off
Big Brother
for breaking rules was in the
Sun
last week saying she made two-point-two MILLION QUID last year just from stuff like her new TV show called
Tabitha’s Tantrums
on Living TV where they just film her doing stuff like getting her hair done and going around being well gobby.” I said I could TOTALLY do that ’cos if I went on
Big Brother
I’d cause more friction than Tabitha.
Mr. Brightwell looked really depressed then and said every girl in Essex wanted to be Tabitha Tennant but that was “cloud cuckoo land” and we needed to think of a more “viable option for the future.” He typed all of my strengths and weaknesses into the computer and some of my “guesstimated” grades for GCSE too and said that he would help me find a work placement to give me a taste of the job world. When I looked at the paper what he’d printed out it said:
Tilak Foods — Unit 57, Bishop Fledding Industrial Estate, Goodmayes.
Mr. Brightwell said it was a small factory that supplies foods like samosas and pakoras and stuff to newsstands and gas station refrigerator sections. He said I should write them a letter to see if they can give me a job. I took the piece of paper and left the IT lab and felt a bit weird.
Mr. Brightwell is rubbish. I don’t know how he has a job.
FRIDAY 7TH MARCH
We got to meet Cava-Sue’s boyfriend, Lewis, tonight!!! Well, for about fourteen seconds. That’s all Cava-Sue would let us see of him and even then she was standing in front of him in the living room door answering all our questions like he had learning difficulties. He’s called Lewis and he is studying Art A-Level, that’s all we got to know.
Mum blackmailed Cava-Sue to bring him home ’cos she said she would only lend Cava-Sue a tenner to go out with Lewis if we could all have a butcher’s at him. Mum said this Lewis could be a bloody psycho or anything for all that we knew. Mum kept moaning on that when she met Dad in 1985 she brought him home to meet her mother within a fortnight for a cup of tea. “Didn’t I, Brian?” my mum kept saying. “You came and met my mother and had a cuppa after a fortnight? You remember, Brian?”
My dad made a face like he definitely DID remember. I don’t remember Mum’s mum at all ’cos she died when I was like three or something but Dad always says that me and Cava-Sue take after her ’cos “she called a spade a spade too,” whatever that means. Dad says the first time he went round to see his future mother-in-law, the first thing Gran did was look at his hair and pull a face, then open up her handbag and pull out a comb and say, “I reckon you’ll be needing this.”
Lewis ain’t much to write home about. The blokes at Cava-Sue’s college can’t be up to much if this is the best she can
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