Hello, darlings.
Not my monkeys; not my circus.
That is the best placative thought that entered my head during the course of last night's failed attempt at a good night's sleep. It very nearly led me into a relaxed state of mind but, by the time it occurred, it was already morning. And now, the day is early and a serious sentiment is rife for the blogging.
This serious sentiment appears to me as being highly important for the same reasons as I often blog in the past, although those times are usually when I have had a deep and resonant dream, or if I'm worrying about study. I also blog when I've had a perturbing day, or am having a difficult period. And I like to investigate these things, and what better way to investigate than through a personal record? They always come to something.
Now, I am not a misogynist. At least, I don't see myself as such. I do like to make fun of women, sometimes, as I like to make fun of my friends, and family, and celebrities and politicians. I do not think I am a misogynist. I think I may have said some edgy things about women to certain people, not least one of my best friends, and these have always been tongue in cheek. I don't like it when people talk down to women, or when they talk lowly of women, or when they are vulgar about women... Just like when people are racist - I don't like that.
And when we interact in society, there is a threshold. With the advent of technological advancement, and social media, etc, we have been conditioned to feel like we have to interact a little more than is strictly necessary. We are actively encouraged to post comments on every news item or other nuance of media; that is, we now feel it is our duty and right to make a comment on whatever topic that is put before us. It is indeed an anomaly. Society is now interactive in a way in which it never used to be, and perhaps we are only getting used to it, or perhaps we have gone down a wrong path. There is no God-given law that says we absolutely have to get involved. This brings about the advent of trolls, and it is a natural progression of technology. I miss the days when we only had four television channels.
Now, this pandemic, with it's restrictions in the form of social distancing, lockdowns and masks, considerations of hygiene, and conspiracy theories and the vaccines, well, it has encumbered a difficult year. We have had a year of these restrictions and this narrative, in which everybody has been involved. So now that things have recently eased up a little, I guess it's only natural that we should have to relearn to adjust to social interactions.
As soon as the day arrived, I got myself back in the gym, and started going as much as possible. Things seemed to be going well. If you'll remember before the pandemic even began, I think you'll recall that things were slightly tense, and I myself put this down to Brexit, and the tensions of that anomaly. They certainly were tense, I recall! I recall having to put myself through some sort of "beef" whenever I chose to visit the local shops to have a coffee. It was a frequent occurrence that I would find myself in some sort of trouble with some or other man or woman, and so frequent that it started to make me unwell, and I vowed to commit suicide. Of course, in the end, I was exposed to a miracle of nature and science and religion that meant I did not have to hurt myself, and things turned out alright. To a degree...
Last week at the gym I was standing outside in the forecourt, and smoking a small roll-up. I had had five minutes to kill before I was allowed to enter, due to their new rules of the app. And I was minding my own business out in the open, next to a fence. Occasionally, people would walk by, and pay no attention to me. Then, a minute later, a mother with her child in a buggy walked by and stopped by the corner of the fence. I had no idea why she stopped, but she appeared to be tending to her child. I was nearly done with my roll-up, and had previously tried to smile at her, when she said, "Can you go away, please?"
"I'm sorry?" I said.
"Can you go away, please?" she said again.
"Can you go away?" I retorted.
It turned out she was upset by my smoking a cigarette near her child, or more accurately that there was a nursery nearby. Was she right to be so rude? I was way out in the open, and the lady continued, "Just be a pleasant person!"
I was astounded and said, "I am a pleasant person!" to which she looked utterly exasperated and to the sky and said, "You are not a pleasant person!"
In the end I told her to fuck off. I mean, the nerve of it. To literally stand there and tell me to go away, and then accuse me of being an unpleasant person. I wonder what about me affords that effect.
And then today, on two accounts, something strange happened.
First, and I don't care too much about this - although I would love to know what is going on in her mind - an old friend of mine was walking past and I tried to say hello, and she basically ignored me. It's perturbing and unnerving, but I won't talk to her again. I think she is arrogant.
Second, as I was sat outside the coffee shop reading a book, with a recently purchased Americano, waiting for the arrival of my two friends Charlie and Julia, I was approached by a lady, who went to take a chair, you know how they do... "Can I take this," she asked, already half off with it.
"I'm waiting for my friends," I said.
"There's two chairs there," she said.
"I have two friends coming," I replied.
"Well, they're not here so I'm taking it," she snorted and smugly smiled, snatching the chair away.
Unbelievable. So rude.
So anyway, whatever happened next is of no concern to anyone, and I will relate it in due course. But the whole day has left me wondering, what is it about me that these women think they can be as rude to me as they please?
Now, I'm not a misogynist. I love women. But I haven't got the time for these plain ladies to whom I owe nothing, but to whom they seem to think I do.
Are you a plain lady? Do you feel like I owe you something? Please explain to me what I owe you in the comments and we can arrange a meeting.
Yours sincerely,
Daniel
Not my monkeys, not my circus.