Visit the Shut up about Barclay Perkins site

Who would have thought it was so fucking complicated? Get to the required age then having your pension paid? Like for my mother's generation? No such luck.

My busiest days since waving a tearful farewell to work, have been filling in stupid forms and digging out decades-old payslips.

OK, it's partly my fault for not getting a job after leaving school and staying there until retirement. Or just staying in the UK. Both options would have made life simpler.

Brain Trawling and archive dredging for my work history, brought back so many memories. What was the name of that company when I had six pints of Mild at lunch? Or the one where I rarely went home without a couple of pints in the pub around the corner? Which one had the licensed bar in the canteen?Then there was the one where I left two hours early most days so I could have a couple of beers in the pub before picking up the kids. So many happy memories.

And how could I forget my first job in Holland? After the interview, which must have gone pretty well, my putative boss asked: "Would you like lunch?"

I wasn't going to piss off my new boss. Or turn down a free meal. At a really nice restaurant, he kicked off with a kopstoot: a pils and a jenever. Which he continued to knock back during the meal. No way I was going to turn down this job. And I was right. Every company event was a huge pissup.

It's funny what you remember. The dates? No idea. I would use my CV for the information. But that's not 100% accurate. That's where the old payslips come in.

I thought searching beer sources could be boring. Compared to looking through financial stuff, it's like Disneyland on acid.



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