Paperjam

Letter from London

Rant // Helen // 19th June 2003

Last week, I accepted a job stuffing envelopes for a property consultancy in Mayfair. 'Cash in hand', 'friend of the family' I was told by my agency. Seeing as my agency are nice people and I'm desperate for the cash I gratefully accepted. For the reason that my comments may be libellous I have changed the names of the following - as much as I hate these people I do want to work again. 'Julian Spiffing' was the Director of the company; more about him later. I was met with his long suffering PA at the door, and she showed me the pile of papers to be stuffed into the envelopes.

It was hot and stuffy in there, I can tell you. 4,000 was the grand total of pointless advertising paraphernalia that needed to be sent out. In the space of 6 hours I had managed nearly 2,000. I wished I was being paid per envelope. I was quite pleased that I was getting papercuts from my stuffing action, as my blood smeared rather nicely over the envelopes - not a good look for a la-di-da company. The office was situated only yards from the rather glam Hanover Square, home of Vogue a Conde Nast publication (known as 'Conde-scending and Nast-y' to those in the trade). Which is all rather fitting as Julian was the most hateful man I have ever met, for the following reasons;

1. He thought he was gorgeous. He was in fact repulsive. Tanned like a burnt sausage with goggly blue eyes and pigeon chested. Oh, he was a short arse as well.
2. He's a married man, and openly having affairs with all manner of creatures. 'I can go to any club and pull anyone I want.' His previous PA left because she was having an affair with him, and his wife was storming the office every five minutes with divorce papers.
3. He has the most vulgar laugh. He also snorts at the same time which I think should be punishable by death as I had to put up with it every two seconds.
4. He is so rich he has a private jet. Every weekend he flies himself around Europe. He spent the entire day bragging about where he had flown to.
5. He is a patronising bastard who loved nothing more than to be mean to the PA, Caroline, who should escape before he becomes her next victim (see number 2)

and finally (although the list could go on ad infinitum)

6. When it came to the end of the day and the all important payment, they had no cash. They also couldn't find their cheque book. I nearly had to suffer the indignity of going the the cash point with one of the other, almost equally hateful directors. Imagine how that would have looked - am I a call-girl (high-class) or a drug dealer demanding payment?..if only I had a banana to shove in his back.

So you see, its an interesting life if nothing else. Thank the lord for the relative sanity of working on photoshoots, but that's a whole other story.