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Jun. 28th, 2006 04:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eiffel_71A mayoral engagement at noon today - the British and International Sailors' Society's Annual Southampton Service for Seafarers. I was suited and badged ready when John arrived at home at three minutes past eleven, then we made the five-minute drive to my mother's workplace, where the security guard correctly guessed we were there to pick her up (it's fairly obvious the large black shiny car is a Mayoral one), and ... we waited and waited.
While we were sat in the car waiting for me ma to show up, John bent my ear for over ten minutes about the young yobs who make a noise near his street at night times and how he'd like to use his air rifle on them. When 11.15 passed with still no sign of my mother, John started to tell me how we were going to be late. As more time went by we got increasingly fed up, both with sitting around inside the car in the hot sun and with the certain knowledge that we were going to arrive late at the church. John went out one more time and asked the security guard whether he'd phoned up to my mother's office; he said he had.
Finally my mother showed up at 11.30. She'd thought that was her pick-up time and was mortified when John told her she was 15 minutes behind. It was partly her colleagues' fault - they hadn't given her the security guard's message until 11.28, when she came off a long phone call - but largely her own. Only my scatter-brained mother would start a phone call to the Council, to deal with a problem a resident had taken to her, at 11 am when that's dangerously close to her pick-up time. Even if she thought she wasn't being picked up till 11.30, phone calls about sodding Council casework - not even anything to do with her day job, so did she have to do it on work time anyway? - could and should have waited till the afternoon.
John was a model of diplomacy, falling over himself to tell her it didn't matter, while my mother kept saying "I won't do it again" and telling me we'd slip in quietly and sit at the back. In the end, when we got to the church it was only 12.08 and there was a man from the Sailors' Society outside still waiting to greet us. My mother apologised to him and claimed we'd got stuck in traffic (John's idea). The guy was really nice about it and showed us to a pair of seats right at the back, then when the Opening Prayer, which we'd arrived in the middle of, ended and a hymn started he led us down to our seats at the front.
It was a good service, and the chaplain gave a very good sermon about how the ethos of the British and International Sailors' Society has always been not to tell people what you think they need, but to always ask "How can we help you?"
The service ended with the inauguration of the new Port Chaplain, a young Indonesian minister called Frans. As the Society Secretary led us through to the buffet, he told us how Frans speaks Tagalog, the language of the Philippines, which is a great help as the majority of the sailors who work out of Southampton now come from there.
At the buffet there were cups of tea or coffee, lots of sandwiches and sausages and the odd potato snack. Several Sailors' Society people came and sat at our table; my mother told them how she does envelope collections in our street for them, which went down well, especially with Gloria, who is the lady my mother actually deals with on the phone when she does the collections - so at last she's met her. Me ma was the only mayor to accept the invitation to the service and the Society people really appreciated us coming. I had a long conversation with a girl called Rebecca, who'd just moved from the Accounts department to Fundraising and was finding her new job much more interesting. I'd have placed her in her mid-twenties, but during the course of conversation she mentioned she had a 16-year-old daughter! The Sheriff of Southampton also came over and joined us; he was delighted to discover that he and we are of the same political party. We mentioned Frans to him and how most of Southampton's seafarers are Filipino, and the Sheriff said there'll soon be a lot more Chinese seafarers arriving.
We'd been told we'd be leaving at about 2.30, but we saw John hovering outside waiting for us at around 1.40, so we said our goodbyes. On the drive back my mother remembered John's promise to get her in some mints (she's particularly fond of mints) and asked if he had any; to her delight John produced a massive bag of Mint Imperials.
While we were sat in the car waiting for me ma to show up, John bent my ear for over ten minutes about the young yobs who make a noise near his street at night times and how he'd like to use his air rifle on them. When 11.15 passed with still no sign of my mother, John started to tell me how we were going to be late. As more time went by we got increasingly fed up, both with sitting around inside the car in the hot sun and with the certain knowledge that we were going to arrive late at the church. John went out one more time and asked the security guard whether he'd phoned up to my mother's office; he said he had.
Finally my mother showed up at 11.30. She'd thought that was her pick-up time and was mortified when John told her she was 15 minutes behind. It was partly her colleagues' fault - they hadn't given her the security guard's message until 11.28, when she came off a long phone call - but largely her own. Only my scatter-brained mother would start a phone call to the Council, to deal with a problem a resident had taken to her, at 11 am when that's dangerously close to her pick-up time. Even if she thought she wasn't being picked up till 11.30, phone calls about sodding Council casework - not even anything to do with her day job, so did she have to do it on work time anyway? - could and should have waited till the afternoon.
John was a model of diplomacy, falling over himself to tell her it didn't matter, while my mother kept saying "I won't do it again" and telling me we'd slip in quietly and sit at the back. In the end, when we got to the church it was only 12.08 and there was a man from the Sailors' Society outside still waiting to greet us. My mother apologised to him and claimed we'd got stuck in traffic (John's idea). The guy was really nice about it and showed us to a pair of seats right at the back, then when the Opening Prayer, which we'd arrived in the middle of, ended and a hymn started he led us down to our seats at the front.
It was a good service, and the chaplain gave a very good sermon about how the ethos of the British and International Sailors' Society has always been not to tell people what you think they need, but to always ask "How can we help you?"
The service ended with the inauguration of the new Port Chaplain, a young Indonesian minister called Frans. As the Society Secretary led us through to the buffet, he told us how Frans speaks Tagalog, the language of the Philippines, which is a great help as the majority of the sailors who work out of Southampton now come from there.
At the buffet there were cups of tea or coffee, lots of sandwiches and sausages and the odd potato snack. Several Sailors' Society people came and sat at our table; my mother told them how she does envelope collections in our street for them, which went down well, especially with Gloria, who is the lady my mother actually deals with on the phone when she does the collections - so at last she's met her. Me ma was the only mayor to accept the invitation to the service and the Society people really appreciated us coming. I had a long conversation with a girl called Rebecca, who'd just moved from the Accounts department to Fundraising and was finding her new job much more interesting. I'd have placed her in her mid-twenties, but during the course of conversation she mentioned she had a 16-year-old daughter! The Sheriff of Southampton also came over and joined us; he was delighted to discover that he and we are of the same political party. We mentioned Frans to him and how most of Southampton's seafarers are Filipino, and the Sheriff said there'll soon be a lot more Chinese seafarers arriving.
We'd been told we'd be leaving at about 2.30, but we saw John hovering outside waiting for us at around 1.40, so we said our goodbyes. On the drive back my mother remembered John's promise to get her in some mints (she's particularly fond of mints) and asked if he had any; to her delight John produced a massive bag of Mint Imperials.
