JOBSWORTH

JOBSWORTH.*1

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* ( Derogatory English slang describing the mentality of bureaucrats who claim it’s ‘more than me job’s worth’ to in any way bend the rules.)3

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The cat had apparently used up the first eight before a car took its ninth life right outside my shop and in right in front of a good customer. ‘Good’ as in ‘business’ and also as in ‘citizen’. Few people would have taken it upon themselves to retrieve the horrific remains from the middle of the busy road and conceal them from innocent eyes in a small cardboard box retrieved from my paper- recycling bin nearby. The speeding car that had killed the poor beast hadn’t even braked let alone stopped. The first I knew of it was when my slightly sickened customer came back in to the shop to advise me that I should have the council send the ‘dead-cats-and-dogs-man‘ to pick it up before it started bringing flies.
Impressed by his civic-mindedness I resolved to act promptly and called the local council
immediately. The answering service that kept me on the line for the next five minutes assured me that my call was valued and repeatedly – repeatedly – welcomed me to the ‘Keep Smalltown Tidy Initiative’. Finally a voice, somewhat less polished than the tape I’d been left with but refreshingly real, asked me how she could help.
I outlined the situation as succinctly as I could and enquired when the ‘man’ might arrive.6

“So where is the cat now?” she asked.7

“In a box just inside the entrance to my parking area.” I replied. 8

“Ooh – well I’m afraid I can’t help you.” 9

“Excuse me ?” 10

“It’s on private property. The Council’s not responsible.”11

“But I just explained to you how it got there.” 12

“Yes , but we can’t do removals from private dwellings.”13

“It’s a shop car park “14

“Nevertheless. It’s not the public highway “ 15

I could see the way this was going, even if I couldn’t believe it.16

“Now wait a minute. Are you telling me that if the cat had been left on the road there would have been no problem. But because somebody picked it up and tried to stop it becoming an even worse eyesore and health-hazard than it was , it’s no longer your problem? Is that what you’re saying?”17

“It’s a domestic waste problem now.” Her voice had that ‘nothing we can do about it ‘ tone that only civil servants can truly master.18

I could feel the blood begin to rise but I controlled myself. So far it had been a good day and we could make this work yet. As long as things stayed cordial. I drew a deep breath and put as much of a smile into my voice as I could muster. I thought I did quite well .19

“Look - I probably haven’t explained this very well , eh .. what did you say your name was ?”20

“Mary Kelly”21

“Ah , Mary ! Yes , thank you. Mary , maybe we should start again. I’ve just spent 5 minutes on your answering service hearing about the ‘Keep Smalltown Tidy Initiative’. Now, everyone involved here has tried to do just that. I’m trying to run a business here and I could be doing better things. But I’m here talking to you , trying to do the right thing. Do you think we could dispense with the red tape just this once and have the man who does this come round and get this cat? He gets this one gift-wrapped! “22

“I’m sorry , there’s nothing I can do. It’s on private land”23

“Are you suggesting I put it back on the road?”24

“Not at all, sir. I couldn’t possibly suggest littering. I work for the Council.” 25

I know you don’t believe that she said that. I certainly couldn’t! But I swear – she did!
I don’t know how I managed not to use more colorful language than I did. Still, I called her a ‘jobsworth’ and suggested she change her career to one she might like and be useful at – like a traffic warden – and then I put the phone down so gently I almost broke it!
It was almost closing-time and the cat would remain where it was that night. I hoped ‘sleeping on it’ might clear my thinking about the matter and mellow my mood. It did – and it didn’t. I was thinking very clearly. But I was even more angry.
First thing that morning I was packing the gruesomely disfigured remains of the small black cat into a bin-bag and sealing it. The bag went into a box which I again carefully sealed with brown packing tape. I covered the box in warning notices about the contents. I really didn’t want anybody opening it. Then I put it in another box, pass-the-parcel fashion. Address labels and invoice pouches were affixed. It looked like any of the many mail-order packages we might send every day. It went onto the carrier of my push-bike and with a high-viz vest and a cycling helmet and gloves I made a fairly convincing cycle courier.
Ten minutes later I was at the town hall and a friendly individual pointed me and the box towards the elevator that would take us to the appropriate floor. Presently I was asking for Mary Kelly at ‘Environment’. She seemed pleased to have a delivery addressed to her personally. No doubt it gave her a feeling of importance. But she looked puzzled when I asked to speak to her superior.
He turned out to be the pleasant individual who’d given me directions. He listened patiently and attentively to my story. He sympathized. He explained that the rule existed because of public liability implications but readily conceded that simply having the box placed discretely outside the gatepost rather than inside it was all that had to be done. He agreed that my complaint had been badly handled so far and enquired as to the current whereabouts of the cat. Thus far he hadn’t noticed the package sitting to one side of the otherwise unencumbered counter. My glance towards it drew instant recognition from him.26

“It’s in the box?” 27

“Perhaps now your department will have it collected.” My smile was tight-lipped but my victory was complete.28

Mary Kelly stared wide-eyed at the box and at her boss alternately.29

“Thank you , sir. I’ll deal with this now.”30

I have no doubt he did.
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