It had always been my dream to go to university and have the full college experience. At times, it seemed a daft thought for a guy in a wheelchair who needed so much assistance day to day. And yet here I am in the middle of my second semester of my third year at University College Dublin.
However, I am now in the middle of difficulties that threaten everything. My trusted Personal Assistant has just left the job leaving me in the lurch. He had worked with me from the very beginning. My mother said that I had been blessed and maybe that was true. He got a much better paying job. I knew that it would happen at some point.
Now, I was relying on the goodwill of other students to get me through. All that drinking in the student bar had at least been somewhat of a positive.
Now I was on the way up the long ramp in front of the restaurant where my father was waiting for me. We were there to interview three people who had shown an interest in the job.
We waited patiently in an area remote to the other few people in there. It was a quite time of the day. The first person was a no show. Not a good start. Well, at least second person showed up. It was a guy in his early thirties. He had long, brown hair with his ears and nose pierced. There was a stench of cannabis. He left and we told him that we would be in touch.
Then she walked in walked. I was flummoxed. She was a few years older than myself, dressed formally with shoulder length blonde hair.
“Ulrika?” my Dad enquired, probably still thinking it was the wrong person.
“Yes, thats me.”
My Dad thanked her for coming and told her what would be involved.
She was in Ireland for the year looking to improve her English, which was almost perfect in any event.
“Do you have any questions? Are you still interested?”
“What are you studying?
“History and Economics. I enjoy them.”
With that, the interview ended. She left with a little wave.”
Neither of us said anything for a few moments.
“She seemed good.”
“Yeah, but what will your mother say?”
“Well, she’ll hardly want me hanging around with a junkie, now will she?”
“Yeah, probably not.”
Now I just had to hope she took the job.
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