Friday 2nd March

Do British Workers have an attitude problem?  Do we really hate out jobs, hate our bosses and probably hate our lives so much? It isn’t just the miserable faces I encounter on the tube, though I do wonder why they go through with it if they are so downcast, why not just turn round and go back home if you cannot bring yourself to at least look moderately happy.  I used to enjoy the occasional “Good Morning” with the road-sweeper, but of late all I get is a shrug of yellow pvc-clad shoulders and a reluctant return to the broom.  The girl who serves me my coffee is even looking harassed and fed up, as if it really is too tedious to serve me.  But yesterday I saw a little charade that encapsulated our whole attitude problem.

I had turned out of the park and was heading home when a large white flat-bed lorry which was actually more of a converted white van than a real lorry, swerved in front of me and stopped at the junction of a side road.  Two men clad in bright yellow tabards over paint-splattered jeans and frayed sweatshirts got out and threw almost in disgust the butt-ends of their cigarettes to the ground and swiveled them out with angry feet.  They sauntered to the back of the truck and threw, yes literally threw out four of those orange plastic cones and then a couple of black plastic sandbags and a yellow metal sign with black lettering reading ‘Road Closed – Diverted Traffic’ and a swiveling arrow mechanism.  I had always assumed that the battered state of these signs was evidence of a car collision of some sort which had buckled the quite thick metal frame and plate, but now I see that it has been inflicted by disillusioned and grumpy malcontents of workers who should be looking after this equipment, or do they get some secret enjoyment out of maliciously damaging their bosses property.  They kicked, yes literally kicked the cones and sign into place, then slumped themselves back into the cab which drove to the other end of the street where the pantomime was repeated.  I don’t seem to remember this resentment at actually being expected to do something for your wages when I was younger.  I wonder is this a sign of our straightened times or just a particularly British attitude to work?