Friday, 21 January 2011

Have you got a cigarette?

Oh, hi guys. Innit cold? Get a load of this! I was outside my house on Wednesday when a man shouted across the street at me -

'Excuse me mate! Have you got a cigarette?'

To which I replied - 'No, sorry, I haven't'.

I'm assuming that if I had a cigarette and was prepared to admit that I did then social convention would dictate that I then gave him the cigarette. Funny that. Don't think it applies to many other things...

'Excuse me mate! Have you got an i pod?'

The fact is that I didn't have a cigarette and I never do. I've never liked the idea of smoking and on the very few occasions that I've attempted it I've immediately coughed. It strikes me that anything you have to persuade your body to not react violently to has to be pretty bad. That is why I don't go to the gym.

He then asked me the same question.

'Excuse me mate! Have you got a cigarette?'

At this point I wondered why he was singling me out. I live on a main street and there were plenty of other people walking by and yet he chose to shout across the street at me. Why?

'No. Sorry' I replied.


What? Really? Surely this conversation should be over by now? I tried to be as clear possible. I now felt a little uncool for not having a cigarette but there was no use pretending because that would only cause trouble further down the line.

'I haven't got a cigarette'

Then the man shouted something that truly blew my mind.

'What? You don't have sex?'

I wanted to check I'd heard right. 'What?'

'You don't have sex?!'

I resisted the temptation to get defensive and say... 'Yes! I do actually! I have done on a number of occasions. I'm not prepared to tell you that number but, in short, yes!'

Instead, I just smiled weakly and walked into my house. What amazes me is that the man who did this was in his fifties and walking his dog. Did he really want a cigarette? Was this a joke that he has been playing since he was twelve and never gets old? Weirdly, I'm pretty sure I saw other people on the street laughing. What hilarity have I missed out on here and why was it aimed at me? What the fuck was going on? WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON?!

You may remember my last post centered around another man in his fifties who messed with my head. Have I somehow done something to offend all British men in their fifties and they are now using a 'drip, drip' effect of Fergus head-fucking to bring about my nervous breakdown? I don't remember publicly insulting their God, Jeremy Clarkson.

I am now genuinely going to go to the pub on my own and read Private Eye. I am telling myself that I'm going to write some new material while I'm there but perhaps this is the first sign of that aforementioned breakdown. Most of the people in a pub on a weekday afternoon tend to be men in their fifties so I may be entering a bit of a lions den. Aren't I brave? Wish me luck.

Before I go, just in case you've not heard them yet, I'd like to nudge you in the direction of some podcasts I made with Sophie Black. They're all improvised (flawed) and enormous fun to do (indulgent). She's off to India now so we'll make some more when she's back. Alright, I see you later guys. Have a nice weekend and all that. Lots of love.


1 comment:

  1. Was it part of a hidden camera show that you didn't know about? Or maybe your life is like that of a hidden camera show.