Diary of a Die Hard (Apprentice) 3
Stephen Boon gives us the next instalment of our exclusive insight into the life of an apprentice at St. Nicholas Church, Sevenoaks
Since last time I wrote, my ministry amongst the people and furniture of St Nicholas has branched out into several new areas.
In one exciting development I am now a fully qualified Old Person Handler. The training has been rigorous, and included lectures and a number of real-life exercises – culminating in a full day’s coach trip to the seaside and ‘Merriments gardens’. I remember with clarity my first lecture in Old Person Studies, many months ago now. It was delivered with a surprising amount of force, given the demure appearance of the septuagenarian lecturer, and was on the topic of Old Person-appropriate vocabulary. I had inadvertently (but probably fairly) triggered this impromptu address by my use of the word ‘toilet’ in my testimony in a service. I had to agree that though this particular toilet had played a crucial role in my conversion (I won’t go into it now), I could probably have told the tale without specific reference to it.
Still, having learned from this experience and subsequently managed to avoid significantly offending too many other Old People, I was allowed to go on the Old People’s coach trip a few weeks ago, which was actually quite fun. Our first stop was at a sort of local museum in Hastings, where I pushed this dear old lady around. In a wheelchair, obviously. I mean I pushed her wheelchair around. Oh never mind. The problem with taking Old People to museums is that it is difficult to find exhibits older than the visitors – you’re supposed to be taken back into a distant past that you have never experienced, not just back to the last week that you remember clearly.
At the gardens, we found that we had an unfavourable ratio of wheelchairs to people who would like to be pushed in them, and so we attempted a sort of shuttle service – moving each person from one bench to the next one, and then going back for the next person. I kept forgetting where I had left people, and would round a rose bush to find some poor agitated old lady who had been sitting beneath a leucanthemum for the last half-an-hour and would rather like to see the zauschnerias. I’m still not absolutely sure I found them all again, but no one’s asked any questions.
In a few weeks I will be saying goodbye to two of my three apprentice colleagues. The third one is also leaving, but we’re not on speaking terms. As the only apprentice staying for a second year, I plan to be known by the new ones as ‘Senior Apprentice’ – they won’t know it’s not a real title, and until they find out, it might command a bit of ill-deserved respect. I still don’t have any plans for what to do after apprenticing, so it looks like I’ll still be here in fifteen years time – hopefully known as the ‘Senior Chief Managing Executive Head Honcho Apprentice (chair division)’. Well, we can all dream…