Super Visor

I can safely say , without fear of contradiction,  that I never put down Bail Hostel Supervisor  on my list of prospective jobs when I was  young. To be fair the list was never extensive but at no point did I ever yearn to spend my time in such an environment, and I appear to have found myself in this position almost by default. Mostly it is easy, with few really challenging or dangerous incidents as most of the residents in the hostel are post-release, and not looking to upset the apple-cart. One cannot become complacent but in three 3 years of employment I am yet to feel any more threatened or vulnerable in the hostel than I would be in any city centre bar or night club. Yet the scene that greeted me on saturday night was enough to make my heart sink faster than a stricken ship.

Starting your sequence of night-shifts is stressful enough as they really make you question where your life is heading. So when I turned up for duty at 9pm the site of many unfamiliar faces gathered by the reception area made me feel very uneasy. When it was relayed to me by the staff that a nearby hostel had been plunged into darkness due to an electricity cut, and that I would be joined on my shift by 12 additional bodies, as well as 2 staff unknown to me, I was gutted. When I went out to speak to these Probation refugees, I was horrified. For gathered in front of me were some of the most unpleasant and unsavoury people I had ever had the misfortune of setting eyes upon. The crimes they had committed would fill the centre pages of any Sunday newspaper. At least 2 were known to me from a previous residency at the hostel, and 1 was a regular in the News of the World. I had 12 long hours to go, and these men would be my companions.  Once again, I remembered every mistake I had ever made, and every time I hadn't listened. If I had known what was coming to me I swear I would have tried harder.

The shift was just about bearable due to the other 2 staff who joined me on this shift from hell. The new arrivals, after some posturing and complaining, (some of it justified)   eventually settled down and went to sleep, lying on inflatable beds wherever they could find room. The smell was unbearable, the snoring obnoxious, and the inconvenience considerable. But the clock continued to tick and I was able to leave the hostel at 9am on sunday, heading back home for some much-needed rest. The clear-up operation continued in my absence and when I returned on sunday evening they had all gone, and thankfully, they haven't returned. Things got back to normal quite quickly and I was almost able to enjoy my second shift. 

There are many times in hostel life when a shift can be filled playing pool, visiting a museum, or simply watching the football on tv. During these times one can almost feel embarassed to be getting paid as it is far removed from the way the majority earn their wages. But make no mistake, I earned every penny on Saturday night.