OECD Paris part
1
by Jilliana
Ranicar-Breese
After being
replaced by a fils du papa at FMVJ, I was in
Paris in the mid 70’s, with only £200 and
nowhere to live. Mon Dieu!
Ex teaching colleague Mike Irish to the rescue.
To complete my education, Mike took me to a
street off Barbes where the Arabs lined up
outside to spend five minutes with a prostitute
inside. One in and one out!
Could I type? he asked. Easy, his ex girlfriend
Pat Glenny, in the Energy Department, would be of
influence and get the forms and help me fill them
in.
The forms comprised of a mass of questions. I
recall, amongst endless questions, asking about
my eyesight and the next question was whether I
had had VD! Finally after pages of boring
questions, the final question was what jobs had I
had in the last three years?
There was only a small box to type in so I
attached a piece of paper and typed ‘educational
travel’ in America and Mexico with teaching
details such as St Giles London teaching English
to foreign adult students and Global Travel.
I was horrified when Madame stated that it didn’t
count because it was not ‘in the box!’
My interview was a farce. I had to correct
deliberate errors in the typing by making a
pencil mark in the margin. I remember the word
‘stet’ meaning let it stand. To ignore
an instruction on a printed proof. The typing
test was ten minutes. I was a good fast touch
typist but I suddenly heard the electric
typewriter make a strange hollow tapping noise.
When I looked I was typing on ‘stencil’.
Worse was to follow the ribbon had not swung back
which was why I was typing on ‘stencil’.
I stopped in the middle of the test and wound the
empty bobbin back so I could continue. Time was
up. I demanded to do the test again but no, the
flunky wearing flat brogues and a long dark grey
skirt insisted that Madame could see my
capabilities!
“I’m surprised you typed as well as you
did!” She said when I finally met the
terrifying bespectacled Madame. I knew I had
failed the test so was amazed when Madame
announced that I could start the following Monday
in the typing pool and that I should go to the
accommodation office to see about a flat.
Pat Glenny, I later learned, had attached her
comp slip to my application.
It’s who you know not what you know.
Part
1. Written 5/12/24 at Nightingale.
|
