Running the gauntlet

Some weeks ago I went to enroll in college where I was told by a charismatic man of a certain age and attractiveness that, as I'd be leaving my job at [cinema] before I started my course, I should sign on and come back in to enroll when in receipt of benefits as I'd then get the course for free rather than paying the hefty £950 fee. "Sign on, even if it's just for a week. I'm a tax payer and I don't have a problem with you doing that. I just want my students to get the best deal," he said, sweeping his hair out of his eyes with a rolled-up-shirt-sleeved arm. I nodded, trying not to let my mouth hang open. Not paying £950 sounded good to me but little did I know I was about to face an ordeal worse than exam term at Cambridge, worse than vomit on a ten hour shift at [cinema]. We hear about people that make a living by scamming the government, claiming benefits in different cities and I say let them keep the money. It's a full time job trying to extract one payment from them, I can only imagine the effort and patience required for four or five.

College gave me a form to be filled in and stamped at the Jobcentre. So when I went to sign on for the first time I brought it with me. After signing on:
Mavis: Miss F?
OGH: [goes and sits down at the table]
Mavis: [sighs in a loud and protracted manner] Book?
OGH: [hands over book]
Mavis: Sign here. NEXT!
I went downstairs and asked about getting my form stamped. I was shown immediately to a table where a nice young man called Tristan filled out my form quickly whilst making polite conversation and then I was on my way within the hour. I felt surprised and pleased that everything had gone so smoothly. However at this point I had no idea that I was already undergoing ORDEAL BY INCOMPETENCE. I took the form to my college, which is on the other side of South London to my home and the Jobcentre, and proudly handed over the form to the fee assesment lady. "Oh no," she shook her head, "Oh no, they've put an end date!" she prodded at the relevant part of the form with a fingernail manicured in hot pink, "Can't take it with an end date! The benefits have to be ongoing, look." She pointed to another part of the form where this was clearly stated. I inwardly cursed Tristan and his friendly conversation and complete lack of concentration. I had to wait for half an hour to see a smiley woman who confirmed that, yes, the form was useless. "I'm really sorry, you'll have to get another one filled in. God, it's in Woolwich! I'm sorry hun."

So was I, very sorry to be trailing yet again into Woolwich Jobcentre with a new form clasped between my fingers. I was a bit better prepared this time but there's no real preparation for ORDEAL BY OBSTRUCTION. First I was told that in order to see someone I'd have to make an appointment. Obviously the most natural way to do this is to sit on a jobcentre phone on hold for fifteen minutes before getting through to the main call centre in Belfast where you give them your NI number and they then put you through to the jobcentre you are sitting in where you are finally given an appointment for an hour and a half's time. An ingenious system. I'd been waiting about for over two hours when I finally saw Don, a flamboyant gentleman who waved me over in a manner that wouldn't have been out of place directing air traffic.
Don: Now what can we do for you?
OGH: Well, I've got my P45 to be faxed over...
Don: Oh gawd! I don't know if I'm supposed to be doing that! Oh gawd! Where do I send it...
OGH: New Claims.
Don: Oh Gaw... Really? New Claims? Oh right, I'll just fax that over then! Right. Anything else?
OGH: Yeah, could you just stamp this form for me? I've brought it in before but it was filled out incorrectly.
Don: Oh gawd! I can't do that! I'm not authorised! We're short staffed today and I'm not authorised! What's you NI number?
[types it in and presses return repeatedly while the computer beeps angrily]
Don: See? I'm not authorised! Bring it in tomorrow morning and Linda will do it for you. NEXT!

Linda sat in front of me the next morning looking apologetic. "I can't stamp that for you as the claim isn't coming up as live on the system." She typed my NI number in again and the computer beeped another emphatic "NO!". I showed her that I had, in fact, had the form filled in before. She looked over it and tutted, "Tristan!". My patience was running extremely thin. It seemed that this was ORDEAL BY MISCOMMUNICATION. "I have been here three times with this form," I said, my anger barely controlled, "I need it to enroll in college, if I still have a place after all this incompetent faffing." She called head office for me. Apparently the person handling my claim was away from their desk but would give me a call that afternoon and when they called I should make sure that they'd put my claim live on the system, then come in the next morning to get my form stamped. Of course I got no such call. I spent the evening near to tears through frustration, melodramatically flinging myself onto soft furnishings demanding, "Why won't they just stamp my fucking form? All I want is to better myself! Another chance at education!"

So, Wednesday morning, day three, I awoke with a steely determination. I gathered numbers and stepped into ORDEAL BY CALL CENTRE. This determination didn't falter when, having been on the phone to him for half an hour, the first man I spoke to told me my claim would probably take four to five days, too late for me to enroll, before realising that I'd been given the wrong number by the website and his call centre didn't cover Woolwich. The next number told me that my claim should have gone through but I'd have to call my local Jobcentre to get them to enter my last signing on date. I called Woolwich and was put through to a rather confused man.
Confused Man: What do you want?
OGH: Er, I need my last signing on date entered onto the system so my claim can be processed.
CM: Right. Are you on New Deal?
OGH: No...
CM: Well you shouldn't be talking to me then, who gave you this number?
OGH: I was put through by Woolwich jobcentre.
CM: Give me your NI number... right... you can't sign on today, you sign on on Fridays.
OGH: Yes, I know, I just need my last sign on date put...
CM: You come in on Friday to sign on, you can't have money today.
After hanging up I decided it was probably best to take direct action and went into Woolwich again. At the Jobcentre I waved at Don, smiled at Linda, realised I was probably in there more than some of the staff.

At the front desk I explained that I needed my sign on date inputted so that my claim could be processed and was given a number to ring and shown to a phone. At [cinema] we were taught to use the "Talking to a Brick Wall Technique" on very difficult customers, essentially just repeating yourself over and over again. I decided that this would be my tactic.
Callcentre Employee: Hello, NI number please... right, how can I help you?
OGH: Could you put my last sign on date on the system so my claim can go live please?
CE: Right... just doing that now... Right, you sign in on Fri...
OGH: Is my claim now live on the system?
CE: Well, I'll put a note...
OGH: Is my claim now live on the system?
CE: If you come in on Fri...
OGH: Is my claim now live on the system?
CE: Yes!
OGH: Right. Thank you.
And so I went and had my form stamped and filled in correctly by Linda, then had a trouble-free enrollment at College. VICTORY. Still haven't got any money though.