Londonward

I went to get a National Insurance number. I called the office to book my appointment way back in mid-September. I had to forego attending the launch event of the GEO-4 because of it, so I was a little disappointed. There was no way I could reschedule the interview to get the number, though - a friend of mine had called them to get an NI number because he just got a job, and was told to come in December.

I arrived a god half an hour early, which evidently was a good thing. After having been shown where to go by a loitering security guard, I was escorted through some corridors to an office with many desks. The Jobcentre representative, yusuf, sat me down and asked me for all my documentation. It was a good thing I’d taken everything, including all my correspondence on the matter. After he ran through what I had brought, he began filling out a multi-page form with a strange, calligraphy-style handwriting.

I watched as he went through my previous addresses, the dates I’d come into and left the UK as well as the details of my job. Any answers I gave to his questions were met with an approving high-pitched chuckle. At one point, he looked up from his writing, asking me what I study - was it IT?

“No, Environmental Policy,” I said, “I keep that and work separate for now.”

“Oh, I bet you do!” he chuckled and resumed his writing until he remarked, “Environment… very busy field these days.”

I nodded approvingly, and he continued, “The LSE must be good with that, they’re the best in Development Studies.”

“I suppose so,” I replied.

When we were done, he asked me to take a seat in the waiting area until he could get my documents checked and the application confirmed by another person. As I did so, I came to sit across from a man who was speaking hurriedly into a phone in a hushed voice. “Wish me luck,” he said. “Give me some luck” he breathed into the phone as he finished. Just as he put the phone down, a big English guy, another JobCentre employee came up to him and said, “Sir, let’s go. Follow me, we’ll have a nice little chat.” The words on paper were nice enough, but his tone wasn’t. They went out of the door, probably into a more private room.

Thankfully, I just had to sit and wait until I was called to another big waiting room and was given my documents. Now all that remains is to wait - 6 weeks, apparently. I may have to bear the price of getting paid and having to pay extra tax due to a lack of a NI number. After all, I’ll be able to claim it back in a year. Hopefully.

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 25th, 2007 at 17:00 and is filed under London, Money, work. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.