The black tower (II)

Pitlochry. I never heard about the place before I decided to come. Expecting nothing, therefore I was gladly surprised of finding something. To be tested was if my position was a good equilibrium between civilization and a nice job. My friend ended up accepting a job to work on a field, picking up strawberries or something like that. He had experience on it, apparently, and he was happy to join when he found out that he was getting three times the salary he obtained before, doing the same. It didn’t matter my reasoning: here it is much colder, you don’t speak the language, and so on. He was decided to go, and there he went. From one day to the other, I was alone.

We found out we were not the only travellers that ended up coming to the repurposed student’s residence at the top of the hill. One guy that we met in the common kitchen happened to just come back from a failing job interview. We asked him how he got his interview, he mysteriously grabbed something from his pocket and left it over the dining table.  A black brick with a little screen and numbers. A mobile phone, and a number to call. “Yes” he said “I know it sounds stupid to go everywhere with a phone, but I really needed a contact number”. He explained us for the first time about well-known by now vicious circle: you need a phone to get a job, you need a house to get a phone,  and you need a job to get a house. We were having “covered” the house, while he had covered also the phone. “Can we get a phone?” I asked. Maybe it was a nice investment for the future. “No if you give this address” was his simple answer.

So we asked him to find us a job. And he did, quite kindly, by phoning his manager and explaining him our situation. Maybe the rhum of my friend helped. Or the other goods he kindly shared. As I said, my friend went happily for the strawberry picking. Unfortunately, I was not happy or not qualified for the offers the guy got for us, so I decided to wait another day, before giving up.

The next morning my friend left for his strawberry fields. And the new guy told me he was again leaving, direction Edimbourg, the day after. But he will ask the last time his manager for something for me. In the afternoon I chose Pitlochry, one of his options. I never saw him again.


About bitsanddragons

A traveller, an IT professional and a casual writer
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