Wheer wor’ ta bahn w’en Ah saw thee,
On Ilkla Moor baht ’at?
Wheer wor’ ta bahn w’en Ah saw thee?
Wheer wor’ ta bahn w’en Ah saw thee?
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‘I'd already begun to suspect that sex brought misery or death, and now I knew.’
Wheer wor’ ta bahn w’en Ah saw thee,
On Ilkla Moor baht ’at?
Wheer wor’ ta bahn w’en Ah saw thee?
Wheer wor’ ta bahn w’en Ah saw thee?
Sign in to Granta.com.
‘I think there should be a National Service of Hospitality. The best way to see the true face of humanity is to serve it a plate of chips.’
Camilla Grudova on bad-mannered customers.
‘Anyone who has ever worked night shifts will understand the vertiginous feeling that comes with staring down the day from the wrong end.’
A.K. Blakemore on working nights.
‘I was constantly reading job ads, trying to find my holy grail – a job I could stand to do, and someone foolish enough to hire me.’
Sandra Newman on learning how to play professional blackjack.
‘I loved being a receptionist. What I loved about it was playing the part of being a receptionist.’
Emily Berry on being a temporary office worker.
‘Every part of you would swell, including your eyeballs, and no matter how much water you drank, you were always dehydrated.’
Junot Díaz on working for a steel mill.
Blake Morrison is the author of several books, including And When Did You Last See Your Father?, As If, the essay collection Too True and Things My Mother Never Told Me. He lives in London.
More about the author →‘One by one they’re led into the box. They swear their oath. They confirm their name, their employment, why they were where they say they were, what it was they saw.’
‘My hopes weren’t high, even to begin with, so I felt no bitterness when He didn’t reveal Himself’
‘When young, we were impatient with our parents: now we want to atone for our callowness, to take measure of them, to understand which parts of them live on in us.’
Wheer wor’ ta bahn w’en Ah saw thee, On Ilkla Moor baht ’at? Wheer wor’...
‘Skirtless, jumperless, she lies on the floor, her hair settling about her like a silky parachute.’
‘If cities are sexed, as Jan Morris believes, then Cork is a male place. Personified further, I would cast him as low-sized, disputatious and stoutly built, a hard-to-knock-over type.’
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