16....I'm on my way!

Part.3   I've got a Triumph....OK!

      After a year almost to the day, it was time to move on, the time was right for me to go....before I was sacked!  The chief clerk at the transport company had been there for years, I did not like him and he certainly did not like me, bit ironic really because he got on so well with my dad! He was always fine with me, when my old man was about, but as soon as I was on my own, he was a nasty piece of work. He insisted I always referred to him as sir, never his Christian name, this was always strange to me because I was one of the few in the company that was expected to, and I had to report to him each morning even though his office was miles away from mine! On one occasion I remember, I phoned him from my office to report in but he said or rather he demanded that I report to his office immediately! When I arrived at his door, he beckoned me in and proceeded to berate me like I was a pupil and he was the Headmaster and of course me being me, turned and said,
    "is that it, have you finished because I have got a ton of work to do"' this angered him even more and he started yelling at me even more, that is until the depot Manager walked towards the office,
      "Morning all, everything ok,?" With that I was quickly ushered out of the clerk’s office in order for him to creep and crawl up to the manager, "yes chief, all under control," under control he said, that was the thing you see, I was not under his control, and he hated that, unlike the other office junior, a snot nose little shit who worked in the main office and was considered a bit of a protégé  by the Clerk and seemed to get away with murder because he always did as he was told, unlike myself who even at that young age, was not impressed by many people, it was not that I went out of my way to be awkward, I just hated bullies at school and why should I think differently about them now that I was at work, and this guy was a bully! This was something that I would remind him of in a couple of weeks’ time when I handed in my resignation! If it was a case of me being a slacker then fine, I would have deserved it, if my work was poor or my time keeping was bad then ok, I can't argue with that but all was fine in those departments, it was just the old personality thing, we just clashed! Things came to a bit of a head on one occasion when I went to see if I could help a customer who had come in one day. This guy came in to ask for some prices on how much it would cost to send of all things, a mast from his sail boat, it was to go to The Isle Of Man and this man also just happened to be, Irish! This man was such a nice guy and he was the real deal, all he needed was to have a green suit on,  a pint of Guinness in his hand and be holding a shamrock in the other! I think without putting too fine a point on it, he was my first encounter with a 'real' Irishman other than those in film and TV, I was fascinated by his voice, this was, if such a thing existed, poetry in motion.  During our meeting he went on further to say that the 'Irish fellow' knows all about this and perhaps he should speak to him to save any confusion! Now this confused me,

"I'm sorry, there are no Irish people who work here", I said to him and he then looked back at me quizzically ,"of course there is, I saw him last week and I spoke to him this morning," laughing he then went on and whispered in my ear, "listen here young fellow me lad, I'm not as daft as you think I am, that man is right now sat there in that office," he said pointing over my shoulder to the main transport office! I looked around and through the windows of the office, trying to figure out who he meant and the only person in the office was the Chief Clerk, the horrible git that tried to rule by sheer physical presence! 

"You mean...him?" "I do indeed, that's the very gentleman, I'd like to see him if you please," I walked over and was just about go in, when he looked up to me glaring, for a second I had nearly forgotten that I had to knock, heaven forbid!  So I knocked and he was looking down at some paperwork and without even looking up at me, he called out, "enter", a response that I just could not take seriously, especially coming out of the mouth of a jumped up little shit like him,  "there is a customer to see you, you spoke on the phone this morning," he craned his neck to look over my shoulder then quickly stood up and brushed past, "that will be all, you can get back to your office now", and as I walked up the loading area, I heard the clerk talking in a perfect Irish accent to the customer!  It was so fluent, so accurate that I just had to stop and look around and then much to his annoyance, he turned his back on me and ushered the customer into his office, he knew alright, he knew that he had been rumbled by me of all people!  My dear old friend Vic could see that I was at first dumbstruck and then he could see what I was thinking next and quickly moved in to tell me all about what had just happened. Laughing his head off and coughing his lungs up, he removed his cigarette and proceeded to tell me a story, "his Great Grandfather was Irish and so whenever he can, he likes to give the impression he is too, he has done it for years, and we all have a right old laugh about it", the closest to Ireland he has ever got is watching the Val Doonican Show on T.V every Saturday night! I turned to him and was just about to speak when Vic put his hand up to my mouth to close it, "don't worry about it or worry about him, it's just what he does, he thinks  it makes his boring life seem more interesting to others! As a young Buck, I just could not get my head around that, I could not understand what possessed a grown man to spread the bullshit and not realize that he was not fooling many people, what a sad man he must have been!
      After a year, I was nearly 17 and it was, I felt, time to start moving on, it had been a great year on so many levels most importantly and noticeably, I had grown up. From my first day, I had hit the ground running with very little time to dwell on my past, just to wave it goodbye.
      When it came to handing my notice in, I remember having very mixed emotions. Seeing the governor and thanking him for giving me a chance, to prove that I could work in the big world, saying goodbye to Vic and all of the drivers was hard, they had been so good to me, most of them had looked after me but they had also let me live by my own mistakes too, looking back I am truly grateful for that, I may have been Dave's boy but I made my own way, on my own merit. My last day was very bittersweet, sad in one way but exciting in another, the new job was more money, working with people more like my own age, a million miles away from what I had been doing and it was one of those ‘Déjà vu’ moments, I finished on the Friday, had the weekend to enjoy before starting on the Monday, almost as I had done a year earlier, except back then I left school, this time I was leaving one job and going straight into another!
      My new job was as an office junior, again fortunately for me it was not far from where I lived, so for the first few weeks my trusty old pushbike was still required. This job was to most young lads of my age almost like 'living the dream', it was one of the biggest Motorcycle dealers in the South West of England, chrome, speed, lots of noise, however, not for yours truly, initially they all meant Jack Shit to me, the main reason I had gone for the job in the first place was pure and simple, more money. I liked bikes but I didn't love them, even back then I liked four wheels as opposed to two, much more.
        Day one in a new job is a bit strange, unlike your very 'first' job out of school where you are given a bit more slack, a bit of time for 'bedding' in, a certain amount of generosity is afforded to you for the cock-ups you will undoubtedly make, your second job is a lot different, you are expected to know everything there and then and for that reason you are probably viewed with a bit more suspicion, it is more like "whose this new guy, is he here to take my job"?
    Now I am the sort of person who has always been 'an open book', what you see is what you get, so it usually doesn't take too long to blend in and 'establish' myself and after a day or two, all of those boundaries that supposedly surrounded me, were gone.
      To start with, the initial view is that you obviously like motorcycles and probably own one, I fell into neither category and it took me a little while to understand why people should think that, you must remember I only applied for the job because it was more money, no other reason!
      By now I had owned my first car for quite a while, and a few weeks later, I passed my driving test at the second attempt, my first test was a dismal failure, too cocky by far, I still had to realise that you can do whatever the fuck you like, when you have passed, until then you do it by the book, but Like all young men of that age, I was full of snot and beans  and I knew more than the examiner did and when those devastating few words hit you, "I'm sorry but you have failed", I just thought it was a mistake, what did I do wrong, and then I was presented with a list of things that just went on and on, I just remember saying to the examiner, "ok, ok you have made your point”!  When I did pass eventually, my world was transformed almost overnight, the world was my oyster! Like all 'first' cars, it was a banger, legal but still a banger and I loved it, I would clean it regularly, polish the rust, fill every hole with plastic padding, cover up any dings, dents or scratches with an assortment of decals and stickers but most importantly, try to make a tank of petrol  last as long as possible! However, most of all, it was mine, I saved for it, I paid for it and I appreciated it more for that reason!  It was a 1966 Triumph Herald, battleship grey, with red upholstery and I loved it and because it was a Triumph, it served a different kind of purpose, for a while! Because I now worked for a motorcycle dealer, all of the customers I came into contact with just assumed that I must own a bike, so in those early days I would humour them by answering the inevitable question of "what you got mate", and I would always answer, " I've got a Triumph", which was the truth of course, then I would get the obvious response of, "what, a Bonneville or a Trident," no mate, a Herald!" The strange looks I would get back were priceless, “that must be one of those limited edition models that were only for export, I've heard of them"!  Naturally I would always go along with the joke, well it would be wrong not to! That car served me well that is for sure, I always made sure she looked nice but I would get regular bollockings from my old for not checking the oil or the water, "you would look a right little prick if the fucker would seize up on you, does not  matter a fig how shiny it is", this was his almost weekly tirade to me, of course he was right but back then, at that age, I just thought he was a grumpy old git who was always on my case, fortunately for me, my mum would moan at him for moaning at me, so I did have an ally of sorts. 

The famous Triumph!

(It was 1977 and I was coming to get ya!! 

                               Ok,Ok...you had to be there!)

   

      I soon got into the swing of things with my new job, a few balls ups, a bit of argy bargy in the first few weeks but even back then, I was one of those people who once you met, I was a good bloke to know. I would talk to anybody, I was still young enough to see things and most people at face value, and cynicism was still an emotion that I was yet to completely discover. The year before had been an education, I had learnt such a lot but this job however, was going to take things to another level, lots of highs, some lows but this was the start of the Martin that was to come, like him or loathe him, if I was to put the pin on the map, this is where it all began for me.

Part.4       to follow soon….

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