There was program on last night called Bad Boys of the Blitz which detailed the flourishing crime scene and penal regime of World War Two Britain. Most of this activity had been hushed up by the authorities during the war for propaganda purposes, amnd the point was made that our current problems with law and order date back to this time. I had to laugh though. One old crook was interviewed and with a serious look on his face told us that "whenever there's a war you get outbreaks of violence".

No kidding.

Meanwhile, Back At The Advertising Agency

The bouyant lady who phoned me yesterday afternoon offered me an interview today and instructions on how to find it. The address was in Old Town, so hard could that be?

Across the street from the wine bar... Got it... Next to the Italian resteraunt... Got it... Ummm - That's a bike shop, not a plush advertising agency. So I investigated and discovered the sign for the resteraunt pointed to an alleyway in which the correct door could be found. What a maze of little companies and hostelries. Okay, I know this is Old Town, but this is like Charles Dickens with a makeover.

So one lad came through the door in jeans and was out again in thrity seconds. Another couldn't remember what he'd done at school two years ago, and a young lady applicant grimaced as she saw me emerge from my interview belly first. She of course was turned out absolutely spot on perfect and so thought herself entitled to stare down her nose. I wonder if she too messed up the slightly misleading application forms? I do hope so.

Having met Miss M, the bouyant lady I spoke to on the phone, she really is a first class receptionist. Chatty, able to dismiss scruffy applicants with a single sentence, and always smiling, even when her computer can't handle her any more and misbehaves.

Best Interview Ever

Looking back over the last couple of years one telephone interview stands out. I rang a garden centre to chase up some grotty little job and a woman answered. She clearly wasn't the boss and had a heavy rural accent, all slow and full of wiltshire inflections.

Oh.. Hi.. I'm phoning about the vacancy for Garden Centre Flunky. Is Mr Boss there?

"Nah. What do you want him for?"

Well I'd like to discuss the vacancy as the advert suggests.

"Do you want the job or not?"

I'd like to know something about it first.

"I think you're wasting my time. Click. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr"