Sometimes it takes for you lose something for you to realise what you had. And that couldn’t be more true of when I left my last job. I was glossing over the actual job because of the lovely people I worked with. Since I’ve left I found out that some people there are actually very two faced. I guess in a way I always knew this, I just didn’t pay much attention to it.

I sent out an email just before I left my job. Some may call it cowardly to send it just before I walked out the door. But when you work in a place where no one listens or seems to care what you have to say, or think, there is never a better time, or worse, to have your say. I wanted people to remember how I felt working there. It doesn’t matter if they didn’t agree with me, or didn’t feel the same way. This was my chance to finally say what I wanted. To say how I felt. And the sad thing is, I spoke not only for myself, but for many others. They just never found their voice. This is for them.

Dear subordinates,

I’d like to take the time to write you a little story. It started about 3 years ago when by complete chance; I happened upon a world called Ladbrokes. I started my rather humble journey in Cambridge and was trained to be a fully-fledged cashier. At the time, I thoroughly enjoyed coming into work. The staff I worked with made the job worthwhile. A few months down the line I said goodbye to Cambridge, yet still felt compelled to continue working within Ladbrokes down in London.

Wow! What a change of pace. The customers were so rude. Sure, you’d have your odd nice one that made the job bearable; but in the end, they wore me down. It was not only the customers that made it so, but the staff too. Where I once enjoyed a nice rapport with my colleagues, I found them to be much more closed and selfish. I’m not so naïve as to think that this is true for all the staff in the London shops but still, my time at Ladbrokes was coming to an end. Or so I thought.

Enter Rayners Lane. I made the transition from shop to head office complete with a shiny new swipe card and used headset. I was welcomed and settled in to the daily (and now nightly) grind of, “Hello Helpdesk, Can I take your shop number please?”

The first few months I worked through the challenges that were laid out before me. The usual Cash Quest training, progressing to the dreaded LES and finally, my favourite (haha), BS2000 – all completed after 5 months. And so ended my enthusiasm. Where I was once driven by my thirst for knowledge, it soon turned into the same old rebooting of Cash Quests and Tills malarkey. Oh how one tires quickly. I salute those who can stick it out long enough to not turn insane. But little by little, each time I came into work and put my headset on; I lost a little more of my soul. It sounds quite dire doesn’t it? But look at it like this. We are working on average 6 days a week, sometimes 8/9/10 days in a row without a day off. The hours are awful. Coming into work at 12pm and leaving at 8pm – where’s the social life? My life was constantly being arranged around work and it shouldn’t have to be like that. Promises of a structured rota were great but the results were not. The only thing making my job bearable was the people. For those of you who remember Amos, I’m not about to finish my time at Ladbrokes with a rather insightful view of the company. Rather, I’d just like to say, I came into this company nothing more than a cashier, I’ve seen how easy it is to stay for 10 years or more. I would have liked to of stayed around a little longer but I just felt some people here are too sycophantically inclined for my liking. And I couldn’t take any more falsifications, bitching or general moaning which I found myself increasingly drawn into.

That said, I hope the helpdesk and it’s employees new and old will continue to enjoy the rather entertaining, if not rather frustrating calls they have to deal with everyday. I will miss you all.

Signing out for the last time.