I spent last night at Granny’s house in a small village not too far from Worcester. Public transport isn’t that great (there isn’t even a proper bus stop, and there are only about 3 busses a day). So although the bus works perfectly to get me from the station in to Crowle, what it doesn’t do is get me back that well.
So the best way to get back in to Worcester to get my train from Foregate Street is to phone a taxi. I’ve had a different taxi driver each time, and they all ask me about where I’m going and what I’ve been doing in Crowle… the usual questions. They’re also usually quite interested in the course I do at uni.
Today, my driver (it sounds important saying ‘my driver’) was asking me about what my starting salary would be as a radio producer. My response: “I haven’t a clue”.
Then, he asked me what the top salary would be “I haven’t a clue about that either” (though I was tempted to say… Several million, like Chris Evans gets).
His next question was: “So you’ve gone to university to get a degree in radio, and you haven’t a clue how much you’ll be able to earn from it”.
To sum up in one word: