Author: Hannah Reynolds
So, my name is Hannah (see above).
I'll try and keep this brief, as I'm off to the pub in a bit to catch up with my friend Doug. He has a 'proposition' for me apparently...(nothing like that) probably just another one of his many am-dram ventures, I assure you his 'sex-head' is concentrated elsewhere entirely. Sh though. I've been sworn to secrecy!
Anyway, I work for the same charity as Stevie Troost, whom I believe you have already heard from. You remember him surely, he has a mastery of language similar to that of a twelve week-old amphibian.
I don't have any qualifications to crow about, dropped out of University once the Gates Fund offered me work. I'm yet to figure out whether I'm the Bill Gates style drop-out or the Frenchie from Grease style drop-out. I'll let you know once someone lets me know.
But I'm doing alright. People can gloat all they like about the alphabet that accompanies their name but I'm the one with the wage, flat and Virgin Media subscription. Depends on how you define success I suppose.
I'll tell you one thing though, I can't stand the street-selling. It's one thing facing the grim reality of how ridiculously horrid the 'Great British Public' can truly be, but it is another thing entirely when facing that same grim reality with Pervie Stevie at your side. I think, as far as he's concerned, it's only a matter of days until he can get his end away. What worries me is that to men like him, 'no' isn't a whole world away from 'yes'...
The money flow isn't great, but it's there, if you know what I'm saying. You just have to be creative. I think of myself as a bit of a creative entrepreneur. It might seem strange to you, possibly even contradictory that a careerist can be floundering away in a charitable position but all I'm saying is there is big money to be had in giving money away. Especially when it's your rattling tin that draws in the crowds. I can't really say much more, that would be silly, but charity works for the middle man, make no bones about it. The Charity isn't all that big on letting the regional managers count up the tins, so who can blame us 'workers on the ground' from...'tipping ourselves', from time to time?
I don't intend to squander my talent away here forever though. This is purely temporary. I'm just waiting for my break. It's coming, I can tell. I just need the right moment...the right opportunity.
I have to run now. My phone's going wild. Doug no doubt freaking out over some strange looks in the pub. TTFN.
Hannah x
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