Saturday, December 16, 2006

Not Dead, Just Sleeping.

Back some time in the immediate future.

Or not so immediate.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Guest Post.

I shan’t give my name for fear of further contact with Mad People. But I am female, an adult scholar and my parents are third-generation Korean-English. Imbeciles refer to me as Oriental.

So I’m at my university. Heading toward the canteen (only twats call it a refectory). And I see this guy who looks just like someone on one of the modules of my degree that I myself have not chosen. But I say ‘hi’ anyway. And immediately realise it isn’t him at all.

An everyday mistake.

But he greets me with such enthusiasm I begin to wonder if I do know him. You know. Have seen him in hallways and libraries and that. So I make the effort for a bit.

Shit. No. I really don’t know him at all. Christ. He is obviously mental. And we have now been talking for some time. He might think that I am his ‘mate’. I decide upon a test, just to be sure.

I mean. Security is a bit lax on campus. You have to be careful.

We (all students) have recently been offered copies of selected Microsoft and all Macromedia products free-of-charge as a result of a sponsorship deal The School of Technology has struck. Macromedia Dreamweaver has proved a popular choice. Fellow students have done quite well out of Ebay.

I question him on the subject. If he were a genuine student with even basic social skills he would know about this.

He looks quite alarmed and fidgety.


He goes away very quickly. Sadly into the canteen where I am due to meet some friends. Oh well. I give it a minute just to be safe.

And walk in after him. To see Mental Bloke doing an uninvited impression of The Fonz to a random person.

Before sitting down on his own and muttering to himself for a while.

Christ. You can’t move for them. Nutters I mean.

Anyway. Thanks for your time.

This Isn’t Happy Days...

At University. [This is me now.]

Only a couple of years ago.

I am outside the Refectory.

A woman approaches. And says Hello in a cheery manner. I instinctively reply in a similar fashion.

She is one of my tutors. An American Professor quite famous in her field. I rather like her, despite the fact that she has made it clear that she considers F.R. Leavis to be something of a radical and that his new-fangled ideas will never catch on.

The very fact that she is unaware that it is actually 2005 is one of her endearing qualities.

As she gets closer, I am about to launch into conversation.

And stop.

I am not wearing my spectacles today.

It is not her at all. In fact it is a person of Oriental origin. Not to be easily mistaken for a slightly dusty American WASP.

There results some slightly awkward conversation.

She has mistaken me for somebody else, I think. And is too embarrassed to say so. And is now pretending that everything is normal and is chatting away. Maybe she is also a bit Mental.

I remember that I had cheerily greeted her as if I knew her quite well. Even so.

Strange woman says:

‘Oh. Have you got your copy of Dreamweaver yet?’

Right. That’s it. She’s bonkers. I don’t even know what that means. Is it code for something? You are mad. Is it one of those graphic novels? Why even bring it up like it was normal? Go away. Christ. For a second I thought it was me who was mad.

I make a short goodbye to the Bonkers Woman and return to the warmth and sanity of the Refectory.

Lost in my own thoughts – most of them regarding my recent peculiar social exchange – I pass by someone else who seems to know me without my really noticing.

He utters some words of greeting. Being preoccupied, the ‘talking’ part of my brain does not function properly and I utter this sound:


Just like The Fonz.

The guy looks a bit perplexed and keeps walking.

I sit down with my coffee and wonder why everyone is mad.
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