Life Experience

Not to rant but…


Not only do I earn my money by working at the high school of my teenage years, but I also have a job at the one and only National Railway Museum in York which I have during the school holidays. It’s great actually, having a second job – gives me some extra dollar and it’s a really nice place to work. Makes me quite proud of the fact that I actually work at a National museum, one that people from all over the world come to visit.

There is one thing though. One thing that I can’t really shake about it. As I stand there at the front of the queue, with the best smile I can muster (and believe me, I have a pretty sweet smile) some people seem to greet me with the intention of being nasty. The questions that I’m asked about money and the queue and why are we even waiting here if we’re not paying? If you’d let me explain, dear visitor, you would find out that you’re waiting so that you can be added to the numbers of the museum. Can’t just waltz in like you own the place, I’m afraid.

I’m not trying to say that every person that walks through is horrible because that’s just not true. There are infinite amounts of lovely people that come through the doors and have a chat with me, treating me like the human that I am. It’s just that I’ve always taken things to heart and no matter how many times people tell me not to, it still works like that, which basically means that every mean person actually really hurts my feelings. Every time I’m questioned about the running of the museum, like it’s my fault; every time I’m told it’s not good enough that there’s a massive queue – even though it’s half term…… – it spoils my day that little bit more and makes me not really want to be at work, which just isn’t nice.


I just don’t understand how you can visit somewhere that’s totally free to get in and begin your day with the mindset of anger and hatred and think it’s okay, because it’s not. I’m not bothered if you’ve had a bad morning or whatever but at 10am during half term (the busiest time of the year don’tcha know) it’s not fair to be so nasty. It’s not fair on anybody, especially not your kids.

This post started out really positively about working at the museum, but thinking about it has brought the cruelty of people to the forefront of my mind. Like, I can deal with difficult kids at school, you can tell them straight that they’re being inappropriate but with adults, it’s not exactly the same. You’ve got to bow down to them and let them treat you like a piece of poo.

Basically, I’m pretty sure any person working in a customer facing role will feel exactly the same about people and understand where I’m coming from and hopefully somebody out there reading this in a bad mood might think twice about what they say to the person behind the counter…just a thought…