Greetings from Woking

Greetings from Woking! Whilst some students sunbathe in far-off lands and others spend eight weeks completing gruelling internships, I spend my nights under strobing lights, shoes sticky with beer, with shrieks, music and laughter ringing in my ears. It could almost be mistaken for Ibiza. Almost.

My summer destination of choice is the company I’ve worked for since I was 16— the local bowling alley. I don’t want to undersell it; not only are there 18 lanes, but also a bar (with 4 different beers!), a LaserQuest, and an arcade. Who needs a Jet2Holiday?

A breaktime scroll on Instagram fills my head with ideas of city breaks, alpine hikes and spiritual retreats to Thailand. One hour of tranquillity would be hard to come by in my line of work. My mother once visited the building to explore the place where I was spending 80% of every vac. She lasted a mere 30 seconds, driven away by the cacophony. Approaching hour 9 of my 10-hour shift, I steal a moment to reflect on this. Which one of the overhead radio, screaming children or incessant beeping from each arcade machine could possibly be considered the culprit for deterring a potential customer? Could I use this as a metaphor for modern life, where, in order to get our attention, each new thing must be louder, flashier – more annoying? Turns out 9 hours at a minimum wage job is just as effective as 5 days of meditation.

The person I bring to the reception desk is not the same person I bring with me to university each term. Customer service me is extroverted yet subservient, existing in isolation with each customer. There’s a script in my head. I do not consciously know the words, but I can say them with confidence each interaction. Whenever I get interrupted, my smile falters and I stutter, trying to engineer the interaction to make sure I recite all my lyrics. The girl who arrives in college on Sunday of 0th week is different. She doesn’t know what a bumper is, or how to pour the perfect pint.

I am proud to be both girls. I have an appreciation for hard work, and the ability to be on my feet for 10 hours at a time. I interact with customers from all walks of life. As important as it is to learn from cultures abroad, I’m finding it just as enjoyable to spend time with my own culture, with the people who share my hometown. During term time, Oxford is a bubble where children and the elderly don’t exist. I’m grateful to be reminded that they do. A little bit of perspective goes a long way in reminding me that university is not the real world. I am fortunate to get access to people at the top of every field, and to partake in centuries-old traditions. Yet, as this summer draws to a close, I’m sad to be leaving my job and my hometown forever. Thank you bowling alley/LaserQuest/arcade. I’ll try to visit you again someday.