I wasn’t sure of the best way to get to Middlesex where I’m working for the next few days, so I got up really early and got the train, then the tube for 19 stops, then a bus. I was still 20 minutes late.
When I finally got to my destination, the place was enormous and I didn’t have a clue which area I was supposed to be in so I went to the main security gate and queued behind a group of bemused foreigners. When I got to the desk I gave the contact name I’d been given.
“Ain’t on de list” said the guard. I wasn’t sure if he meant me or the guy I was trying to report to.
“Stension number?”
“Pardon”
“Ex-ten-sion number”
This went on for sometime before it became apparent I was in the wrong building. When I eventually got to the right one I had to repeat the process with security. I wasn’t allowed through the gate without someone coming to collect me, or an official pass.
I called the recruitment agency to tell them how well it was going and to ask if they’d call the person I was supposed to be working for and get them to retrieve me from the security box.
Finally, I saw someone come out of the building, so I legged it like I was escaping from Guantanamo Bay and yelled “Do you know Pete Davies?
“Yeah – he sits in there. I’ll take you through” said the nice man as he nodded at the security guard.
When I finally got to the right room, it was empty. There was about 25 macs playing various screen savers but no people. I half expected Jeremy Beadle to appear at this point, but then I remembered he was no longer with us (god rest his soul).
Half an hour later some people appeared and pointed me in the direction of a free mac. I sat there checking my emails and looking busy until someone came over and introduced themselves. Turned out she was a freelance artworker and did I want a cup of tea? Later she’d show me where the canteen was. Apparently most people there are freelance, which explains the complete lack of direction.
It was almost 12.30 by now and I finally met the person in charge. Well - his PA who apologised profusely for all the confusion and suggested it would be a good idea for me to go to lunch now. The project managers were still getting their arses in gear and there would be some work this afternoon. No sooner was I in and established at a mac, I now had to get out again. There was no way I was going to navigate the canteen so I borrowed someone’s security card and found the nearest shop – a massive Tesco.
If only it was a Sainsbury’s. There’d be a salad bar and everything would
be OK.
I did eventually get a couple of hours work done before the 2 hour journey home. And it was nice work. Content for a TV ad.
Think I’ll try driving tomorrow
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