Life’s Lessons – the 1970-80s

She dipped her toes into the job market while still wearing knee-high woollen socks with elastic to keep them up. Cycling was her mode of transport even to the beginning of Haig Street, and before she began taking orders at the Fish and Chip shop. That process was a regular event until she left school and entered the real world.

A wider world of new job opportunities opened up.

She found herself in various office positions, each offering unique challenges. The thought of sitting all day with brain-numbing exercises like typing letters to men who resembled her father made her neck hairs stand on end. But hey, she was 18 and didn’t need to be told what to do every second.

She knew it all.

Then came the switch to the hospitality industry, which was fast-paced and kept her mind buzzing; she absolutely loved it and found it challenging in a good way to see how many patrons she could serve at once. Not that she has a competitive streak at all. Best of all, she was surrounded by joviality, as people were happy to go out to dine. No cost-of-living crisis back then.

However, she needed to return to office work to fund more travel. Happily, she would still wait on tables at night. A position came up at the Post Office (the building is now apartments) at the end of Queen Street, Auckland; it was winter, so donning her best tweed skirt, a neck-strangling polo, stockings and sensible shoes, off she went. Swinging her bag with a revised CV that eliminated all those short, shitty jobs, creating confidence in nailing this position as long as she maintained a look of interest instead of total boredom.

He, of course, looked like the typical Government employee, and she looked like the typical desperate jobseeker. Things went swimmingly with the interviewee and her. Until he questioned the likelihood of her having a police record, he didn’t even stop to let her answer, until quietly murmuring “Yes”.

You could’ve heard a pin drop then; she nearly laughed and thought better of it. Never seen a middle-aged man so flustered in her life. After much grappling with papers while trying to compose himself, he needed details. She had a minor drug conviction for possessing marijuana. Nowadays, it wouldn’t be an issue. Back then, things were different and tougher. He needed to talk with his superior and will get back to her.

Unbelievably, she got the position; her parents had a properly employed daughter, and she was to be a telegram operator who took your call, typed up the message onto a telegram form, put it into a tube that was vacuumed up to the next floor, and finally, after time, sent it out neatly folded into an envelope for the receiver to read.

Getting a job was easy back then, and yes, she was onto something new before a year was up. Her life as a rolling stone continued, and so did technological development. The societal changes were palpable, and how we communicated and dealt with certain misdemeanours was evolving rapidly.

It’s incredible to see how much communication has changed and how we dealt with certain misdemeanours back then. She still vividly remembers the Judge’s speech: “Well, young lady, this will haunt you for many years; learn from it.” And it did, and she did.

That experience taught her a valuable lesson that she carries to this day, while recalling a reasonably recent experience when she declared that earlier minor demeanour when entering America via JFK Airport in New York, she survived the integration and happily enjoyed her time in that amazing city, and is pleased to say she never had to endure another airport experience like that again.