how to not park and ride

I went for an interview yesterday with Oxfordshire County Council. The job is one I could do, have done with my eyes blind folded. But they had 7 to interview including 2 internal candidates, so normally these jobs go internally and they only advertise to keep the Unions happy. After all they know the internal candidate. The job was about doorstep crime and protecting the old infirmed and vulnerable against the cruel and unscrupulous. Like these roofers that knock on an old dear’s house and say she has a loose roof tile and to fix it will cost £50, then they charge her £1,000 or even more, and there was nothing wrong with the roof anyway. Sometimes these parasites actually take the petrified old dear down to the Post Office in their dirty van to cash the giro. They put further fear into them saying if the work is not done there and then and the loose tile falls on someone walking past, they would be liable.



So the job was to prevent and cure, to educate and enforce, to be on David’s side versus Goliath.



Now I left in plenty of time to drive 66 miles to Oxford, and of course when I get to the M40, the Police have closed it in both directions (multiple pile up – fatal collision). So I still have time, but time is ticking on, and my car is only ticking over, yes gridlock, for thousands of us. So I telephoned, the recruitment department, I was in Oxfordshire, I was 17 miles away. They unhelpfully said follow the diversion signs, when I asked them for an alternative route, derrrrrrrrr, if there were diversion signs would I be on the phone asking them. Wait for it, it gets better. I saw one Policeman on my road the A43, because all the action was on the closed motorway. So I drive out of the queue to get some vague direction signs, and then get back into the queue. By now I am late, still talking to the interviewing panel by mobile phone.



Oxford is park & ride, the town council hates the motorist. I only know this through life experience, there was no details given to me when I was asked to attend an interview. So I head for the park and ride signs, get on this bus, ask the driver do I need a ticket, “no”, he says. ”Ok it’s just step on”, “yes” , says another passenger. “Do you go to New Road” I ask the driver, “don’t know” is the answer, ok we have a live one here, or do we. “Do you go to County Hall”, “yes”, well this is progress, “can you tell me when we get there”, “if I remember”, more helpful information from this public service provider, don’t you just love public transport. “You want single or return”, he says, “why you said I don’t need a ticket”, “single or return”, “well my car is here its park and ride so why on earth would I need a single ticket”, “£2.20” he says, “you said I didn’t need a ticket”, by now the queue is like 10 miles, long , 10 people actually I exaggerate. I know it’s been 40 years since I was on a bus, but when my mum used to claim half fare for me and tell me to shrink in the seat, we had conductors and it was never this complicated.

Next, I am now finally sitting on the bus having given up talking to the moron behind the steering wheel. I then phoned the council again, telling them I am now on one of their buses heading (hopefully) in their direction, but asking them for a landmark so I would know when to get off, as the driver had been so helpful. Guess what, no one in the council could tell me if the bus I was on would get there. I was even given another telephone number to call, but it was the wrong number (of course).



BUT, help was at hand a fellow female passenger obviously took pity on the blind talking to the blind and leading nowhere fast. She basically said hold my hand you’re a stranger in Oxford (paradise), and I did, noting that I had just spent £7 on phone calls for no help whatsoever.



The interview was nice , relaxed as an interview could be. I talked a lot, but as any reader would read I have a lot to say sometimes. But then I was told the wrong bus stop for the return trip to wherever I had left the car, no maps, no “you are here” signs, the kind of obvious helpful information you may think for a well established park and ride system, well established meaning years not quality.



So when the bus turns up and the bus driver sees me ready to board of course he puts the accelerator down and like a Mr Bean sketch as I run in hot pursuit in my new suit (give a little whistle & flute) and briefcase he parks at the stop I should have been at, sees me in his mirrors and pulls away in true bus driver trained fashion.



Obviously I got a bus eventually, else I could not write the tale, but why are we surrounded by incompetency. Gissa job I could do that. Actually I could not, I could not be as incompetent as those that cost me £7 and £2.20.