I had worked for Taxi companies for 11 years, but the urge to do work that was meaningful was overwhelming, getting drunks home was important, but I was looking for more, specifically the Ambulance service in the city of my birth, Melbourne.
I was amazing on the radio, I think because I found it fun, dispatching the 700 vehicles we had in our fleet by voice, it was an art form, especially during busy periods. It was a rhythm of the voice, speaking fast, keeping track, a conveyor with the orders on small pieces of coloured paper, keeping it all moving, getting people home was our mandate or to wherever they wanted to go.
The drivers were eclectic, from all parts of the world. We all socialised together like a supercharged. multinational family, everyone was welcome.
But it was not enough.
Two years before I was employed by the Metropolitan Ambulance Service (MAS) I had written to them, this was in the days before the internet, asking about opportunities. I was sorely disappointed when told that it was only qualified officers (a 3 years bachelors degree) that were employed on the radio at MAS.
But I didn’t give up.
Patience & Persistence Pays Off
I scoured the classified ads in The Age every week for two years, yes that’s how we found work, newspapers with ads, it’s how we found other Queers too if you were in the know. I wasn’t.
Until one day I saw they were hiring civilians, as they called it, it was my time. I applied, sat for a written exam, a panel interview and got the job along with four others. The only glitch in this whole experience was The Homophobe.
Let’s introduce this sad sack, nasty pastie, downright dangerous man.
The Homophobe & Why He is Important to This Story
I was happily working at a taxi company, I won’t name names, I was the training manager. I had helped another company transition to digital operations and I was charged with the task of doing the same at this new company.
We merged with a second company, and inherited a number of staff that needed to integrate into our operation. The Homophobe was one of them. He had been a supervisor over at “The Other Place” and seemed out of his sorts, didn’t like the change and he certainly didn’t like me.
That was okay, because the predominantly female staff, various ages and mostly not queer, loved me. We would laugh and joke and look out for each other, simply to make what was a tough job at times, bearable.
Enter The Homophobe.
I Swear There Was A Stick Up His Rectum
He went out of his way to be nasty to me, physically. It wasn’t verbal, the pain of speaking to me must have been too much for his sensibilities. He warned all of the women about the evil queer me, they laughed at first, then got mad when he continued to target me, and circled their wagons for my protection.
He bullied with his body. He slammed doors in my face, forced me into walls, was a general asshat. Eventually I had to go to the boss, who dealt with him swiftly, this annoyed The Homophobe even more but he was relegated to sneering at me from afar.
BUT the crunch was this, The Homophobe came in smirking one day, came right up to me (read, in my face) and congratulated me on getting the job at the Metropolitan Ambulance Service.
When I looked puzzled, the evil shite grinned even wider, and as he sauntered off he tossed over his shoulder “The ambulance service told me you too, when they confirmed my position.”
I didn’t hear from MAS until a couple of days later about my appointment, the shine was a little tarnished by The Homophobe but I was ecstatic, my dream job at the time.
BUT I was learning not to let people like him control me with his hatred. And besides when I arrived at the ambulance service I again had allies, but this time he was afraid of them because they were men in uniform.
pEaCe OuT