General Chat

Actually, when I went for the Portsmouth Dockyard job, I was asked if I was a member of the Communist Party.
'No' I said. 'I'm a member of the Workers Revolutionary Party'.
I got the job - and was put to work in the Department dealing with Confidential messages from Destroyers! :-D :-D :-D

I found it boring and asked to be moved to the Receptionist's position. :-D

...made me realise how nepotism works, though.

My dad's stepfather had an unusual name, he was also a well known
Lt Commander. Even though he died before I was born, he was still well known amongst Naval hierarchy. Whilst on reception, I met Admirals etc. who, on seeing my surname asked if I was related to dad's stepdad

Ex (boyfriend at the time) also got a job in the Dockyard, at the same time, as a 'blue collar' worker.
His father was also a Lt. Commander (but in a more 'selective' role than my dad's stepfather - and had an MBE) but he had a 'common' name - no-one made the link.

Yet I spent years as a child living in a caravan, while, at the same time, ex was living in a flat at St. James' Palace. :-S

It was, Caroline - though slightly embarrassing when the yard boy was asked to get me some 'work' boots, and came back with thigh-high black suede stiletto heeled boots! :-S
I gently pointed out that a 'Personal Assistant' wasn't that 'personal', and Doc Martens boots would be preferable - because of the mud. :-D :-D :-D

Sounds like it was perfect for you at that time :-D

:-D :-D :-D

This came to light the other day, when I went to a job interview.
My CV goes back 20 years. I was being interviewed (for a temp admin job) by a couple of youngsters who asked about previous employment.
I mentioned my first 'clerical' job was in Portsmouth Dockyard, but I then went on to move to Shetland, where I became a 'fishwife', crab cleaner, and gained an RSA in typing.
My next admin job was as the PA to the site manager at Sumburgh Airport in Shetland
How did I get this job? I don't know. :-S
We were living in a caravan near the airport.
I'd been up Sumburgh Head, in jeans, wellies and Icelandic jumper (knitted by me), lying on my stomach in the peat, watching puffins.
I was coming back, passing along the edge of the Airport, when I saw a couple of very smartly dressed girls in tight skirts and heels floundering through the mud, near a Portacabin.
A lad came towards me, and asked if I'd come for the interview.
Having nothing better to do, I said 'Yes'.
I was asked my name, escorted into the Portacabin, and had an interview.
I got the job! :-D

...apparently, I was 'most suitably dressed' for the situation! :-D :-D