The suburbs gets political.

               

"So what's your stance on the Israel/Palestine situation?"

Shit. I had three options: lie, tell the truth, or give some vague, non-committal answer involving words like 'peace', 'love' and 'mutual respect'.

So I went with option two: tell the truth.

"Hmm that's very interesting", came the reply. Shit again.

I could have been sitting in an interview for a master's in International Relations, or passing through immigration at Ben Gurion Airport. But no, I was in fact applying for a part-time waitressing job at a small French cafe in Leigh-on-Sea, Southend. Turned out the owner was an Algerian Arab with a passion for politics - and Middle Eastern politics in particular.

Now this very surreal experience may not have been quite so surreal had this cafe been in London say, or some other vaguely cosmopolitan city, such as Leeds. But in Leigh-on-Sea, the Notting Hill of Southend (or at least the Southend equivalent of what I imagine Notting Hill to be like in my head), it was a bit of a shock to the system. Although radically left-wing by Essex standards, this suburban village by the sea remains largely white and middle-class - more Liberal Democrat than revolutionary. Indeed, while Big Issues and hemp products do a good trade in Leigh, these markets aren't a patch on the let's-sit-out-on-the-street-with-an-espresso franchise that's busting out on every street corner in sight.

And the Middle East question doesn't go well with such Parisian-inspired posturings I can tell you.

To follow the dissection of my views on political hot potatoes there then came a reading over of my CV with a fine tooth comb. In all my time of CV-bandying -and let me tell you, there has been a lot of bandying over the years - I have never had someone congratulate me on my A in Critical Thinking. Nor, come to think of it, even LOOK at my A in Critical Thinking. I felt as though my entire life had been leading up to this moment.

"Well, let me perfectly honest with you - in all my time here I have never interviewed someone so intelligent for a waitressing job and I would love to have you come here and work for us; I am pleased just to be sitting here talking to you now. But there's one thing I'm worried about, one hurdle shall we say."

Here it comes.

"You live in Rayleigh."

Jesus. All that and the one thing that's letting me down is mere geography??

After much to-ing and fro-ing, and an admission of utter desperation on my part, it was eventually decided that I might be suitable for the job but that they would have to discuss it first.

"But go back to your mother and tell her that she should be proud to have raised a daughter like you."

That's the suburbs for you: just when you think you've got it pinned down and put away in a box labelled 'boring', it jumps back out and surprises you.