Even shit jobs depend on cronyism

JOBSEEKERS need family connections just to get work sweeping up fish entrails, it has emerged.

You couldn’t even get a meat processing internship

The employment shortage means that personal contacts are required even to get roles traditionally reserved for people who went to sleep in their GCSE exams.

Jobseeker Tom Logan said: “There’s no point in applying to be a part-time trolley collector unless you’ve got friends in high places, like Rhys on the fish counter.

“I remember when you could just walk into a job unloading fridges from a lorry or squirting liquid beef into pie casings.

“These days you can’t even pick up clothes off the floor in Primark unless the weedy security guard wearing an Action Man jumper is your brother-in-law.

“Shit jobs were a lifeline for ordinary kids like me who would rather get high than study. Now it’s all about who you know, not what you don’t know.”

Recruitment consultant Donna Sheridan said: “Cronyism was mostly restricted to politics and the media, such as being made ‘school dinners czar’ or writing a column about boats for the Daily Telegraph.

“Now I’m starting to hear stories from clients who say they can’t get a job at McDonald’s because they weren’t in the right tutor group at the local comprehensive.

“This unfairness means people doing low-paid jobs could soon be as incompetent as their bosses,  so you might have to wait ages at the chippy while the counter staff have a brainstorming session on ‘creative potato frying’.”

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Convertible drivers sick of it now

OWNERS of open-top cars are secretly aware that the novelty has worn off.

The drivers admit that their usual fortnight of free-spirited motoring, during which they leave an imaginary trail of jealousy in their wakes, has begun to pall now we’re in the third month of sunshine.

Julian Cook of Bristol said: “Everyone else is going past me with music on, their hair perfectly coiffed, while I’m listening to white noise in a wind tunnel.

“I’m breathing Eddie Stobart’s diesel flatulence and my face is greased up with industrial sun cream like a cross-channel swimmer’s.

“I’m finding it harder to convince myself that other motorists’ ‘wanking’ hand-gestures are entirely motivated by envy.”