I wanted to be an archaeologist. My dad wanted me to be a doctor. In the end neither of us got our wish. I've had an interesting life anyway. Sometimes poor, sometimes better off, never ever rich. Being an accountant doesn't mean you have to be a bean counter, there are other paths. I travelled Europe as a trouble shooter. I thought it would be glamorous. It was awful. In Brussels I was nearly chucked out of the hotel as a suspected prostitute for having the audacity of going into the bar as a single woman and ordering a drink. Our company paid for drinks in the bar but not from the mini bar.
The embarassment from the hotel meant that noone would serve me breakfast the next morning. Neither did reception tell me when my car turned up to take me to the airport. I ended up in a country where the staff refused to speak English to me although I knew they did. I do speak other languages, (just not theirs). I missed my plane to my next appointment. I ended up in a plane on a hop from the Netherlands to Heathrow in the tailend of the 1987 storm that I knew nothing about. It was adventurous for an accountant. It at least took me past the loss of my miscarriage 3 days before I left.
The most interesting part was when I got back to the UK. The Facilities Manager had refused to allow me a car (because I'm a woman, a rule that was overruled the next month when he tried it on our boss who he hadn't known was a woman). So I had to get on a bus that stopped 10 miles short of home and the ticket office was shut so I couldn't book a ticket to get home. The driver asked where I needed to get to. When I told him he said "I turn into that bus after Swindon, where do you need to go, give us a couple of quid and stay on the bus". He dropped me off at the local pub and I got a friend to take me home.
The embarassment from the hotel meant that noone would serve me breakfast the next morning. Neither did reception tell me when my car turned up to take me to the airport. I ended up in a country where the staff refused to speak English to me although I knew they did. I do speak other languages, (just not theirs). I missed my plane to my next appointment. I ended up in a plane on a hop from the Netherlands to Heathrow in the tailend of the 1987 storm that I knew nothing about. It was adventurous for an accountant. It at least took me past the loss of my miscarriage 3 days before I left.
The most interesting part was when I got back to the UK. The Facilities Manager had refused to allow me a car (because I'm a woman, a rule that was overruled the next month when he tried it on our boss who he hadn't known was a woman). So I had to get on a bus that stopped 10 miles short of home and the ticket office was shut so I couldn't book a ticket to get home. The driver asked where I needed to get to. When I told him he said "I turn into that bus after Swindon, where do you need to go, give us a couple of quid and stay on the bus". He dropped me off at the local pub and I got a friend to take me home.
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