Jackson …

This blog is about the excruciatingly painful comedy set that seems to be taking over my life. So let’s begin. The end of University, woop! No more exams. No more books. No more library. No more awkwardness with people you hardly know.

Yeah that last one was a load of bullshit. The awkwardness, just like bills, my continual unemployment, and the fact that Matt Damon isn’t, and never will be my husband continues on after University. In fact it gets worse as you’re now expected to be a fully-fledged, wiping your own arse adult. My C.V tells prospective employers that I have impeccable communication skills, with the added bonus of being outgoing, friendly and confident. And in no way does my C.V suggest that I am sexually aggressive… wait for it.

Well I have been wiping my own sensitive derriere for a considerable amount of time now, and having given a total of 6, (yes 6!), presentations I consider myself socially competent. (Of course, in all of them I was sitting down and reading from a sheet of paper, and at the correct intervals I even had in red when to breathe). Therefore, like so many almost graduates, I have developed the skills to enter a sophisticated bar (Wetherspoons), and communicate with my fellow University peers in a polite, and socially appropriate manner. However, like we all know, I am not at all like ‘so many almost graduates.’ I believe when I am the ripe old age of 90, with all my teeth missing, and an enlarged tongue that prevents me from speaking, that yes, then I will be ready to enter society.

Now this is where the tale of my descending social standing begins, and as we all know it was never that high to begin with. I decided to go out for the evening with a friend, and her classmates that I know of, but have the usual;

(Fuck, eye contact)

‘Hi’

‘Hi’

‘How are you?’

‘Yeah good thanks. Soo much reading, you know how it is! You?’

‘Yeah same, so much work, but good’

Both smile, part ways and refrain from any form of communication for the rest of the evening.

However, as I was going out with these people, interaction had to happen, and may I clarify before I continue this tale, I mean and meant talking, conversation, dialogue, and in no way was I referring to anything else.

For my sanity the person in question will remain anonymous, we will call him Jackson. Up to this point everything had been relatively normal. Drinks in hand, the basic ‘How are you?’ ‘Good, you?’ Normal, bland, unoriginal, yet polite statements were being thrown back and forth. When Jackson decides to extend the social boundary with this …

‘I was thinking of skinning a cat.’

I looked from side to side, nodded my head and said ‘We all have dreams.’ I went on to laugh, not even a laugh, more of a slight, drawn out ‘Haaaa’ bit of a nervous squeak at the end. My friend during this time was talking to two other gentlemen and I no longer had her knowledge of Jackson to bounce off of. But Jackson soon went back to his funny, engaging, and seemingly ordinary self again when …

‘Would you like to skin that cat with me?’

My friend had now returned and she gave him a look that I believed was speaking the words ‘What the fuck are you going on about, you nutter.’ Now bear in mind, I was a bit nervous, never really spending much time with these people, it was past 10 pm i.e my bed time, and I was drinking coke; the shaking had begun. I proceeded to ask Jackson …

‘Are you trying to fuck me?’

You notice the missing ‘with’ … yeah so did he. I was so hoping he hadn’t, the absence of that word had changed a seemingly comical, let’s be friends statement, into deep seated narcissism, an accusal of sexual harassment and an almost predatory, sexually aggressive nature, all on my part.

My friend and Jackson laughed for a while, whilst informing the rest of the pub of my embarrassment. To be fair Jackson was trying to ‘fuck WITH me’, as I had previously told my friend that I was unsure of his humour. However, he was most definitely not trying to ‘fuck me’ and that is where I lost my argument, and any kind of likelihood of making a new friend. Again remember no matter how bad things get at least you have never asked someone ‘Are you trying to fuck me?’