The Necklace

We heard her before we saw her not because she was loud but because she was close, she anchored herself making her presence felt; we paid the cashier and were about to leave with our easy day shopping. She asks the man behind the counter if there was a vacancy at this convenience supermarket (how modest are these retailers compared with their uber shop assistants) that elsewhere 'let her and others go', as though a treat like a parent telling a teen, 'OK you can go to the gig'. We turned. We knew her. She was short in stature but long in confidence. The counter man boss countered in politely, pleasantly, that he would if he could, when we intervened saying that we would recommend her employment - thinking that as customers, as shareholders - that employers give a toss! Ah the necklace! That's the difference, a sign of confidence, of individuality too; or what the hell until I'm employed again, 'I'm free!' of the clock, under the bosses under pressure, mates who are not so matey after all, of the tedium of the job classified by the uber class 'unskilled'. Have you ever come across a job without any skill?! The necklace, a symbol of her and ours encirclement by the cash nexus by whichever system of obtaining our daily bread in today's world the least worst that has been devised- yet - so fulfilling in so many ways: going home well satisfied with bringing the goodies home to our families, to be well satisfied with the day's work or to moan because it has been a damned dog day like yesterday as tomorrow will be, but keeping poverty at bay. In these isles never have so many been in work (even if in a part -time, poorly paid, non unionised world should shock Walesa) but to anyone on the Dole willing and able to work, unemployment is a 100%. May her necklace beads bode well for work for this hard working woman! May her necklace beads bode well for this hard working woman moan