Thursday, 13 September 2012

Why So Serious? Berocca that Focker!!

As I have said before, I ponder. I mean why do old people, who have retired, insist on doing their shopping on a Saturday morning when they’ve had all week to do it?? Surely there should be some law? I think David Cameron has his priorities wrong!

I do ponder why people don’t have a sense of humour. Surely laughing and smiling is much better than getting anxious, uptight and just plain angry? I mean I still go through those emotions, but generally I try to make a joke out of it.

I went to the doctor’s a few weeks back. I say went, but was sent by work colleagues as they felt I was run down – one even bought me Berocca which was nice, the sentiment, not the taste that is. Berocca did turn my urine bright orange which entertained me.

The fact of the matter is I was burning the candle at both ends and it involved large consumptions of alcohol. This alcohol was the substitute for food. When you have a tenner left are you going to buy a frozen pizza, chips and a tin of beans or a 12 pack of lager?!!

This was the doctor’s issue as well. "How many units of alcohol do you have Mr Evans?" I was honest, I replied I have around 8-9 units. "That’s around the amount per week that is recommended". I didn’t have the heart to tell her that was a daily dosage!

She asked if I had a balanced diet. I said I can hold a pint in each hand and smoke a cig whilst standing on one foot.

I got nothing. Not even a half smile, not a smirk, a raised eyebrow… nothing! Oh well it made me laugh at least.

"Do you eat properly? Do you have your five a day?" I told her that I have salad on my kebab, but again, nothing. I tell a lie, I got a glare this time!

"Why do you not eat properly?" I replied that my chef left me some time ago and took all the cooking utensils with her! "Do you have anyone to talk to about this?" I said I have two very good drinking pals and by the end of the night we are putting the world to rights. Discussing all kinds of things from football to politics to rearing panda’s in captivity!

At no point did the doctor raise a smile. Bedside manner is long dead me thinks!

That’s my problem you see, everyone seems to take life so seriously now. There aren’t enough people around with a sense of humour – not everything has to be a drama.

I like to laugh. I like to make others laugh. I feel like it’s a hobby of mine and if a joke or a prank doesn’t go down too well I am disappointed in myself. Like my school reports always said "Has the capability, but must try harder". Must make people laugh harder I think.

Once during a team meeting at work we were questioned about some letter and more to the point the wording of said letter, the team discussed words that would suit. People were asked what words they liked. I drifted off for most of the conversation truth be told as it seemed a mountain out of a molehill scenario. The discussion got very serious until it came to me. "What words do you like James?" I looked up from my dream about rearing panda’s and I said "clitoris!" I said it just rolls off the tongue. Apparently a letter to a customer cannot have the word clitoris in it. Who knew?!?

When you first start in a job, you start at the bottom… I am still there over 10 years later, but that bottom rung is kind of a comfort blanket now. Plus I do think I wouldn’t be taken seriously in a position of power anyway. Certain people want to step up the career ladder. Those people were mates when you perched together on the bottom rung, but then with great power comes… the need to lose your sense of humour and become a twat!

Management have no sense of humour. I clashed often with one manager in a previous job. He once dragged me into a room and asked me why my disciplinary file was much thicker than those who have been in the role for years. I mumbled and looked sheepishly, I towed the corporate line, but inside I wanted to say it is because you have become a twat.

I remember sellotaping my colleague’s phone – a thin piece of tape over the ear piece works wonders! It makes the person you are talking to sound very, very quiet. The manager, who disliked me intensely by now, called IT. They could not figure it out. And if IT can’t reboot something as a cure to the problem, then they are stumped! Eventually I whispered to my colleague explaining what the real problem was and hey presto the phone started working again.

My manager took me to the usual room (I think it may have even been renamed in my honour now) and told me that if I had anything to do with that ‘problem’ I was in for it. I mumbled, looked sheepishly and towed the corporate line.

IT has no sense of humour either. As I said if they can’t reboot something they internally combust! I remember taking a screen grab of a colleague’s desktop and setting that grab as his wallpaper background. Surprisingly he couldn’t minimise anything as he didn’t realise it was just a picture he was clicking on. IT came down and rebooted several times over the course of 20 minutes… Who knew it was a waste of their time when they finally realised the ‘problem’? I see it as a lesson learned personally…

Those close to you do not always have the best sense of humour either. Although maybe its age that decreases your humour?

My Grandma likes to lecture me on drinking. Every time she sees me! When I rung her to say I was coming to deliver her birthday card she made some comment about making the effort and not being in the pub for once. I told her that I had to go that way anyway to see my crack dealer! She tutted, loudly, but I am not entirely sure she knows what crack is…

I once rang my Dad. I used my own voice (I didn’t borrow one this time) and asked to speak to Kevin. My Dad is called Bob.

Bob: "Sorry no Kevin here, you must have the wrong number".
Me: "Sorry for that"
I rang again and asked for Kevin.
Bob: "Haha, you have just rung here, you have the wrong number".
I rang again…
Bob: "Seriously, what number do you have? This is the third time you have rung me!!"

I didn’t know he was half way through building some gadget that he had just got! Apparently there are better ways to spend my time and his time. I am still disappointed he didn’t recognise his own son’s voice… So who should be more put out here???

I like to play pranks as you can see, I like to entertain and I LOVE sarcasm… Highest form of wit, lowest form of intelligence as my Mum tells me.

And all this is my Mum’s fault you see. Not the pranks – that is my own work of evil genius. However the cutting remarks and sarcasm have been drilled into me by my Mum through the years. She is the Queen of put downs, quick wit and sarcasm.

I used to wear glasses. I no longer do. I wear contacts. I wanted laser eye surgery but it wouldn’t cure my double vision – which explains why I thought I had two brothers for a lot of years! The glasses bit is important so bear with…

I was sat on the couch, minding my own business. My Mum was sat in the chair opposite watching TV. She was eating a peach. A small disagreement came about – possibly about alcohol – I made some quick witted remark that I thought was funny. My Mum took offence to this comment… I don’t know what it was now… and she launched the peach at me. It hit me full on in the face and smashed my glasses in two!

"Muuuuuum!! You have smashed my glasses!" I cried with peach juice running down my face whilst picking the shrapnel of the peach stone out of my cheek.

As cool as you like, she turned to me without blinking and said "I am a good shot aren’t I!" She then turned back and continued watching the TV.

No remorse and no hope for me ever… That’s why I tell people it was a water melon she threw now because people think she’s cruel as a result of the ‘peach’ abuse and that means I get the last laugh.

And I like to laugh and when I do it’s like Berocca… me on a good day!!

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