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:
‘E-eyyyyyyy!’
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.
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:
‘E-eyyyyyyy!’
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.
posted by Tired Dad at
3:27 am
6 Comments:
fantastic! (i'm leaving the comment here, cos this part of your two-part post seems lonely on its own)
I read this after the other one. That was silly. But the guest post seemed to be mean. And this one seemed to make me laugh. But on the inside, in the same way that karate men bruise on the inside. I had to laugh on the inside so Wife wouldn't know I was reading blogs instead of working.
MM: Very considerate.
*: Be careful. The appearance of a man trying not to laugh is very similar to that of a man having an attack of some sort. She'll be harrassing you to bump-up your life insurance.
Er, dude, you said, and I quote "Heading toward the canteen (only twats call it a refectory)." And in this post you say, "I am outside the Refectory". Now wot's THAT about?
Birdy
B: Are you often confused?
Have you ever driven a bus?
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