(things which you should shoot me if I turn into them)
or ‘The Kiddie Table’
V, the epileptic Romanian student is going away for a while, to Romania where he’s a university professor. So we’re down at Galanga Thai in Newtown, which is good Thai for sure, having a bit of a send off dinner. They do a great BBQ chicken. We chat - V is going on about the movie 2046 and it’s relation to Dostoyevski’s Crime and Punishment (they aren’t related at all) - and eat dinner peacefully, without any hint of menace.
But later on, we drop by the ole Ice & Slice pizzeria and icecream bar for a few icecreams & coffees, and I get stuck at the end of the table with all the older folks on. Kind, intelligent, liberal, middle aged people. Dear. Fucking. God.
Restaurants. There’s this great place on Liberty Street. It used to be a corner shop…
Food. No, actually, I love cooking. Huh? Italian mostly…
Travel. Northern England is lovely, but we went there during the Thatcher years and everyone was so poor….
This must be what adults talk about. (My future flashing before my eyes - at least the furniture will be tasteful). And I can’t get out without making everyone else stand up because it’s a bench against the wall. And, sitting there, I wait for someone to try to get to know me but the concept of Aztec chilli-chocolate - incorporating the best of everyone’s insights into both travel and food - is far more interesting.
Eventually, it is over.
I guess,
[select one:]
a) that I shouldn’t be so annoyed.
b) that I will grow up soon.
c) that I am mentally warped and can only relate to a few people.
d) that even sophisticated types love the sound of their own voices.
e) that food, travel and restaurants must be a lot more interesting that I’ve been assuming.
O lord please return me to the kiddie table.
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f) that they’re boring gits and you find it difficult to relate to them because you’re not a boring git.
A sample of conversation from the ‘boring table’ at my old workplace:
“Carpet was so much better in the 70’s, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yes. Shag pile. Mm.”
“Mm.”
“And everything was so much more colourful!”
“Mm.”
“Mm.”
Comment by T. — Sunday June 12 2005 @ 8:48 pm
Mmm. 70’s Shag pile carpet. Perfect for a pile of people to have a shag on.
More stuff should come in ’shag’ varieties, IMHO.
Comment by Mark — Monday June 13 2005 @ 2:35 pm
Old people are stupid. You know its true. You knew it when you were thirteen, An you know its true now. You’ll get old and stupid, and there is nothing you can do. And I won’t be able to shoot you, Because I’ll be old and stupid too. :-)
Comment by Morgan — Tuesday June 14 2005 @ 10:16 pm
That doesn’t deserve a :-) at the end. Miserable. And pessimistic.
Comment by Mark — Wednesday June 15 2005 @ 2:24 pm
I’ll admit it is black humour, But black humour is still funny, at least to me. I mean, after all, one day we will all shuffle off this mortal coil and possibly become dribbling idiots in the process. But at least if I know I’m a dribbling idiot at least I can laugh at myself for being a dribbling idiot, not that there will be anything I can do about it.
Does that make any sense? The shooting bit came from the title of this thread and the ending I thought was limericky like, which usually gives me a chuckle. Oh well, no accounting for taste.
Comment by Morgan — Wednesday June 15 2005 @ 9:00 pm