The construction industry had a major meltdown in the early nineties and I was made redundant. Fair enufski. At the time we were paying two mortgages.
I heard that I was entitled to help with the interest payments on one of the mortgages and went to the SS in Northampton to find out.
At nine oclock on the Monday morning there was a queue at least fifty yards long outside the offices which consisted of Asians(as you call them in UKers) After twenty minutes I gave up and went home.
0700 Tuesday and I was back. There was a queue of about ten people there even at that time. 0900 doors open and after an hour I eventually saw one of the clerks and spelled out my situation in the minutest detail.
To the question of help with the mortgage,
" Are you married, Mr Hackedoff?"( she knew all of the answers, as I`d just finished telling her)
"Divorced"
"Are you living with a partner?"
"I am"
"Does she work more than sixteen hours a week?"
"She does"
"Then I`m afraid you are not entitled."
This mantra was repeated for everything I thought I may be entitled to untill eventually the penny dropped. I had payed into the state all my working life and the first time I asked for help, she was afraid I wasn`t entitled.
I looked around the walls of the room, all of the notices on how to claim were in Urdoo, Gujeratti or whatever, and I said to the girl,
" Know what, mate? I`m the wrong colour here,"
"You can`t say that Mr Hackedoff!"
"Why not?"
"Because it`s racist"
"Is it? These people have paid nothing into our State and yet they are entitled. I, on the other hand, get nowt. That`s not racist."
I had a wonderfull divorce settlement with first Mrs Hackedoff, in case you wondered. She lived in the house and I paid for it. Boy did I pay
But I`m not bitter
Well, not much
