What Did Blair Do For Me?

2nd May 1997, Anthony Blair, a wily, charismatic, precarious looking fellow with big ears who has a tooth behind his front bottom two becomes leader of the United Kingdom. Big deal thought I, staring at the ceiling while lying in bed. The confirmation came around 5am in the morning, I couldn’t sleep so had BBC 5Live on to keep me company. I turned over cringing and threw the pillow over my face when I heard D-ream’s “Things can only get better” as he emerged on the podium victorious. I scrunched my eyes thinking “fuck off, this is shit. How can anyone lead a country with an anthem this crap”.

Now I’m sitting in a café mulling over Blair leaving office on the 27 June 2007. I shouldn’t really give a crap. But I do. Not on the heroic political level of his achievements and failings. No, I thought about what he done had affected me over time. Was there something he did that really helped me out? He’d been there for 10 years of my life, 10 good prime years of my being. In that time, I’ve become more educated, lost my virginity, drank Whisky and decided I liked it, drank Tequila and decided I didn’t. Worked in a plastic milk bottle factory and left, worked in an office, and left, worked in a sport shop, stayed there for a bit and then decided to go back to another office all under the regime of Monsieur Blair. In fact, it was when I worked in the sport shop that I became an advocate of one particular policy.

A rare day April 1 1999 was, as left wingers shouted aloud in the streets, when those from the wrong side of the status quo gained a valuable victory over the ‘oppressors’. The minimum wage was introduced. This affected me straight away in so many ways. Beforehand I was getting fucked over for £3.00 an hour in a sweaty sport shop, working ten hour days, which were really 11 if you take into account the half hour walk to and from work. I used to hate working those long hours running up and down those stairs, serving people who believed they were re-enacting a scene from the Dickensian time period, where they are the portly statesman in a top hat and I am the lowly servant in a rags with a black tooth who runs at their beckoning call. “Boy get me those trainers”. “I said now, boy”. So when the minimum wage of £4.10 was introduced a great elation spread through me and I remembered the scowled look of management as they begrudgingly had to inform us that we would all get pay rises but none of us deserved them. Even though this was a nationwide policy, they seemed to think (New) Labour had specifically targeted them, a pot bellied baldy and a scrawny crooked nosed arse. The effect of our new wage policy was almost instant, I was now able to work 8 hours a day and get the same amount of money if I was working 10. After 2 weeks I went back to 10 hours as I would get more money which would mean being able to spend more money on drinks when we went out. In fact had the minimum wage not been introduced I would never would have been able to go out on Thursday nights where on one particular Thursday I managed kiss the fit girl who worked on the tills. So Tony, I know you’ve done a lot of bad but you’ve also done some good, for me. Thank you.

On another note I haven’t written anymore on my progressive prose because I’m knackered after writing this and it’s 12:30am and I’ve got work in the morning.