My work fantasies are the stuff of Working Girl. Photograph: 20th Century Fox/The Kobal Collection
Was it wrong to applaud when car sales manager Andy was the first to bounced from the Apprentice - despite giving up his job and having a beautiful wife and three kids to support? Oh well, too late - but if it's any consolation Andy, sweetheart, I have nothing but admiration for anyone who takes part in the show.
Trawling the job ads in newspapers is clearly not part of their career strategy. Instead they'd rather broadcast their inability to calculate the quantity of chicken per pizza on national TV in a bid for a six-figure salary. Or in last night's case, milk per coffee.
This year's batch are so aggressive in their upward mobility they probably haven't asked what the position on offer is. I prefer a job spec before submitting my CV but then the only position I'm destined for on The Apprentice is the one which involves saying: "Sir Alan will see you now" while attempting to operate that clunky Amstrad phone.
The trouble with the British version of the series is that it just isn't glamorous enough for my liking. Last night's episode saw contestants selling coffee out of a van and resorting to increasingly fanciful methods to shift units. Jadine, a financial adviser leading the boys' team, sang a funked-up version of Happy Birthday while dancing for a room full of bemused office workers. Why? "It's all about the experience," apparently.
My work fantasies are the stuff of Working Girl and Trading Places. I want skyscrapers, hairspray and shoulders pads. I want Carly Simon in the background singing while someone plots to overthrow the boss of a large corporation.
Instead, the kind of prize offered by Sir Alan is flogging anti-wrinkle devices or managing the disposal of computer equipment. I wouldn't last five minutes, but then neither do his apprentices.
If that wasn't enough of a warning for this year's crop, then surely Sir Alan's expressionless, greying heavies, Nick and Margaret, should do the trick. Like Max Schreck dressed in a Next suit they lurk in the shadows observing the entrepreneurial ingénues. Perhaps they were apprentices once, before a lifetime of listening to Sir Alan honking on about his self-made millions slowly evaporated their emotions.
They didn't look too impressed with this year's contestants. Perhaps they should advise Sir Alan to promote Francis, that stern-sounding girl on reception instead. Well, she can't be any worse than Jadine can she?
