“They didn’t tell me you were coloured.”

I left full-time education still quite unsure of what I would really do for the next 40 years...

A friend and I got together during the summer, registered with a couple of recruitment consultancies, and over the next month or so, we went on our first interviews. If I remember correctly, my mate was pretty quick in taking something at then Midland Bank, now HSBC.

Based on what I’d studied, Business and Finance, I was being sent (fair enough, I guess) for interviews primarily in accounts departments. Dreary office blocks, cardboard walls and a bloke (more often than not) talking endlessly about sales ledgers, credit control and Lotus 123.  

A little challenging to appear awake at times, but I didn’t have a bar to measure anything against, so I used the interviews as a training pitch while keeping an eye open for the right opportunity.

Mostly I would look around the spot and just couldn’t see ‘me’… there, doing ‘it’. There wasn’t any one thing you could point at, but it just didn’t connect with ‘me’. So, though I had a 100% record of being offered these roles, I also had a 100% record of declining. 

I knew so little about the world of work, I didn’t realise this was unusual for ‘1st Jobbers’, and I didn’t understand why my Consultant was channelling me towards jobs he knew weren’t me.  

Not Blocking

It’s worth saying that my Recruitment Consultant actually knew better, he knew me. Brandon was a good bloke and another Wembley lad who shared a few passions with me.

From first spinning a few discs at the John Lyon pub, Brandon (Block) his passion for music led him to rock MoS, Ibiza and other joints for years (before rocking Big Brother).

Brandon would give me a call every week, Friday generally, to celebrate with me that his client had offered me the job (and he’d made some commission too).  I ruined at least a couple of months’ of Fridays saying ‘no’.

I was at his desk one such Friday when he said, “You’re getting me serious grief, Cec. I give my boss weekly commercials saying who’ll be placed, and I keep saying you and then explain you turned a job down each week. My manager and my director are proper pissed off.” (I really wish I could do the growl, lol).

“I can’t do something I’m totally not into, something I don’t care about at all, mate”, I replied. (For those that know me well… more like; “P*** off mate, you want to make some money selling me to ledger life on East Lane Trading Estate. I can get you your bonus, but it’s got to work for me too, mate.”)

I didn’t know the director he was growling about was sitting within earshot, and Angie walked over to where I was seated; shoulder pads and 80’s big hair said, “Are you messing Brandon around?”

“Hi, not at all. Of course I want a job, but I’m not interested in what I’m being offered.”

We had a friendly chat. Angie said I was ‘cheeky but charming’ and asked whether I thought I could do Brandon’s job?

“Yeah, of course, I could.”

“Do you want to try it?” she said.

“If it’s more interesting than what you’re sending me to. I’ll take a Shot. “

Monday 8.30 AM

I had a formal interview the next week, was offered and accepted the job, and was on a week-long training course a couple of weeks later. Then I was deployed as a Recruitment Consultant to one of the companies’ 50+ London offices - Hammersmith Broadway.

I was supposed to start at 08:45 but rocked up about 08:30 to find a tall thin blonde woman in a pale yellow suit (I still remember), unlocking the office door.

“We’re not open yet.” She said it quite sharply as she glanced back over her shoulder at me.

“Oh, that’s OK. Are you Helen?” 

“We’re not open yet,” she replied sharply. 

“That’s OK. I start work here today.” 

“Nah, you’re mistaken,” she said. 

“No mistake, I’ve just finished training last week.” 

 “Really?’ looking straight at me now ‘What’s your name?”

“Cecil Richards.”

Silence. Then…

“They didn’t tell me you were coloured… where’d you get that name?”

My first morning, first full-time job, first experience as part of the UK workforce - an Alien (or, as it would work out, a Trojan Horse). I’d go on to have so much fun with ‘that’ name and my London accent in this sector, but that’s a whole other set of memories.

#achangeisgonnacome