Why Centrelink Is The Ultimate Fuckboy
One, don't pick up the phone, you know he's only calling to put you hold for 45 minutes.
Most people in Australia will be familiar with Centrelink. The government institution promising golden opportunities! A helping hand! Literally a “Newstart”!
The one everybody seems to have a story about (just like Jake Ellis from Bachelor in Paradise).
But after years of an on and off relationship, I have now come to the realisation that Centrelink is nothing more than a fuckboy. In fact, it’s so familiar with fuckboy tactics, it could be the king of all the shitty mistrusting fuck nuggets out there.
They Seemed Like A Dream Come True
At first it seemed too good to be true. Meeting Centrelink for the first time was like being handed a gift of dreams and potential (free money!). Suddenly, I imagined a better life — one where I could afford groceries and wouldn’t have to eat two minute noodles three times a week.
I’ll admit they played a little hard to get at the very beginning. Waiting in line for a century for my name to be called just to be told I didn’t have enough forms of ID and to come back again — ugh!
But it all seemed worth it when that first shiny letter came in the mail. The one that read, “Your Youth Allowance” at the top, followed by a line that read, “Regular payment” and all my brain could hear was cha-ching, cha-ching, cha-ching.
Centrelink was going to take me from really poor to mildly broke. Centrelink was going to become somebody I could lean on. It had me thinking, “Man, this Centrelink character sure does sound mighty fine. I might continue this relationship and see where it goes.”
They Made Me Feel Special
Just like a fuckboy, they made me feel fucking special at the start. They asked a lot of questions, dug deep, they even wanted to know what my parents did!
The beginning exchanges were like sweet, sweet candy. Oh, how I remember that first sight of money entering my account, and just how damn good it felt.
I Kept Getting Mixed Signals
If there is one thing fuckboys are all great at, it’s poor communication. And Centrelink is no exception.
Firstly, they’re wishy-fucking-washy and will lead you around in circles when you try to catch up. Apply online and they’ll tell you to come in in person. Show up at their door in person and they’ll tell you the whole process can be done online and send you back on your way.
And when they wanted something from me, I knew about it. They’d be calling me as if I was the only (broke) girl in the world. Lighting my mailbox up like I could only ever hope my DMs would.
But when I wanted to contact them? When there was something I wanted from them? Ohhh noooo, that’s not how it worked. They weren’t going to just hand me the answers I needed.
I was sending off email, after email, after 20 panicked phone calls, and in one particular desperate case, even a BLOODY FAX.
In no time at all I was saying, “Fuck it, it’s not even worth it”. The common mantra of those on the receiving end of a fuckboy.
I Was Nothing More Than A Number
All those questions they asked me at the beginning began to feel as though I wasted my sweet time. Suddenly, I was treated like another two legs in a sea of people.
If a fuckboy has ever made you feel like an object, just wait till Centrelink handles your case by throwing you in a large homogenous group category. Your personal circumstances are of no interest to Centrelink.
You’re literally just a number, and don’t they know it.
They’re A Mess
Have you ever had a fuckboy play the sympathy card on you? You know, the “I’m just a bit fucked up right now” line?
Yeah? Well literally two minutes ago I tried to log in to Centrelink Express Plus and their engineers “were working on it”. Again. “Centrelink is dealing with another issue and will get back to me shortly?” Uh-huh, I’ve heard that before!
So, if fuckboys at their very core are there to play around and fuck with you, then by all means Centrelink is a Queen at it. Never have I felt so much anxiety, stress, disappointment and rage, all for a relationship that we both knew, was never going to last.