Sunday, February 20, 2011

The Great Big Angry Bullet Between My Teeth

Tomorrow I am going back to my office... I've not been there all week because I've been working from home. But, tomorrow I am going to put on my suit and make a concerted effort to sit at my computer all day being polite to people.

I'm nervous.

Working from home has been great - there is limited commuting time, I can get just as much work done, I don't have to drink tea from a machine, and I can work in my pyjamas. A comfortable account manager makes for a much less snappy account manager in my book.

My temper has been quite difficult to contain recently. Probably due to my ability to stress myself out over the smallest things. I 'lost it' on a train last night. This blog is dedicated to the man I shouted and labelled a complete dick on the tube last night. It's an apology of sorts...but also, a reiteration that you are a dick. But, I realise now that I probably shouldn't have shouted this at you on the Bakerloo line.

The thing was, that we got chatting and I asked him what he did for a living. He said he was an accountant. He asked me what I did, and I said I was a comedian. I know this was wrong of me - not to label myself as a comedian, but to admit it - and he instantly said the four words that are guaranteed to boil the blood of anyone who's ever stood at the mic and entertained a crowd of baying strangers.

"Tell me a joke."

I kept my cool, explained to him that I didn't want to, I didn't really tell one liners anyway and that jokes weren't ever particularly funny in this kind of scenario when it's been demanded of you.

"Well, you're not a real comedian then are you?"

Why was this man doing this to me? I hadn't immediately demanded he tell me what tax I owed or what 28 x 93 was, when he said he was an accountant. I explained I was a real comedian but that I wasn't keen on jokes being demanded as they always turned out awkward and not funny and I didn't see why I should have to prove it anyway.

"Tell me a joke."

Now, I'll admit, I was drunk and he was annoying but that didn't warrant me asking why he was trying to force a joke out of me in a manner akin to verbal jape rape. That was probably being melodramatic. But, as I think I've pointed out - he was a dick.

Perhaps I should have just walked away, but I had a seat on a tube and no truly drunken person would choose to try and stand and keep their four Long Island Ice Teas inside them at the same time. Perhaps I shouldn't have told him I was a comedian, maybe I should have said 'Account Manager' in an homage to my pitiful attempts at enjoying a day job. But it would have killed me a little bit to define myself as being invested in the tedium of my office. It just isn't who I am, and it isn't what I's somewhere I sadly have to go. Perhaps it's worth putting up with tools on trains if it means you hang on to that little bit of sanity about who you are...?

Perhaps I'm hung over and babbling like a woman who needs to hydrate. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...

1 comment:

  1. I hate it too when people say 'tell me a joke'. I don't tell jokes, I just say sentences.

    You probably should have asked him to do your tax/accounts for you in return.