RAD!
| | Im Just a Mid-Twenties Dirtbag, Baby | The thorny subject of age has been raised on these hallowed pages several times already. But, thats the thing with open forums: the same old stuff gets written about. Age is one of those things that affects us all differently, so were all aloud to bang on about. Feel free to skip to another article if you like, unless I know you personally; you lot have to hang around. Go on, Ill buy you a pint.
I turned 26 at the arse end of last year. If you were feeling particularly mean, you could say I was in my late twenties. My younger brother (the jammy 17-year-old little bastard) frequently does. I have now passed my quarter century. Those of you who are good at maths will have worked out I was born in 1977; my life has run across four different decades. Ive legally been able to buy booze for EIGHT YEARS. Next year, The Goonies, my favourite film as a kid, celebrates its 20th anniversary. Events in Back to the Future 2 (set in 2015) are now nearer to us than those in Back to the Future (way back in 1985). These are all facts, theres no escaping them. Fucking hell I feel OLD!
But do I act it?
Oh good God, no!
Ive never felt so immature in my life! Im stuck in some awful time vacuum where my body wants to grow old graciously but my mind wont let it. Or maybe its the other way round. Whatever, my inner child is chucking a major strop at the moment and refusing to let me grow up. Ive had a vague suspicion that something strange was going on for a while, but all my nightmares were confirmed last weekend. I spent Saturday in a daze of wonder, I was a zombie stumbling round lost in my own world. Where was I? Monkey World. I was at what essentially is a zoo and I was giddy with excitement. Despite the fact I was drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes (the former is, at least, a very grown up thing to do), I was amazingly excited by a gibbon howling. I even -oh God, why admit this? - I even spoke back to him. Not in English. In gibbonish.
<*dv_0*> This is a bit of an extreme example, but for the last few years theres definitely been signs that Im retreating from being a grown up. For a couple of years after turning 21 I felt grown up, but now its as if Im regressing. I dont know if I missed out on my teenage rebellion or if this is an obscenely early midlife crisis. All I know is its happening and Im enjoying it immensely.
Take a typical night out on the lash. Surely I should be at the stage in life where I have six pints then go home? Surely 11pm is fine and dandy? Nope. I want to stay out till 2am and I want to drink whatevers on offer. Ive never liked nightclubs, but Ill stay in a late bar any night of the week. Ive developed a worrying taste for tequila. I hate Aftershock, but fuck it: Ill drink it if its in front of me. And whose the first do suggest a kebab at chucking out? Me. I hate kebabs, I shouldve learnt this lesson eight years ago!
I work in an open plan office, surrounded by mature, sensible people. They have a laugh and are professional at the same time. I, on the other hand, occupy the desk next to my boss. This is so she can TELL ME OFF IF I MISBEHAVE. Yep, I am in need of constant supervision at work. If I dont get constant supervision I get distracted; before you know it Im sniffing marker pens and organising the office chair Olympics. Im normally quite scruffy at work anyway: top button undone and sleeves rolled up. But I found out the other day that my boss gets particularly pissed off if I dont shave. To this end, I decided Id grow a beard. No other reason, just felt like annoying people. I havent shaved for six days. WHY? I know I CAN grow a beard - I spend the gross of a small country on razor blades every month.
Oh yeah, lets not forget my down time. I mean, you cant work and play all day can you? You need to recharge your batteries. Do you know what Ive found works a treat? An almost constant stream of PlayStation 2, MTV and WWE (as the WWF is now known). WHAT THE HELL? I find grey hairs when I look in the mirror and Im watching sweaty American guys twat each other with chairs for fun. That sentence makes no sense at all. Its just far too contradictory. If I lived in Missouri Id understand it. But I dont live in Missouri, I live in Surrey.
But then again, all I seem to be is a walking contradiction. Lets sum up. I have a pension, a savings account and am toying with the idea - gulp - of getting a mortgage. I (used to) shave every day and have found grey hair on my own head. I wear a tie to work and recently started reading a grown up newspaper (The Guardian) as opposed to a tabloid. Reading that back I think I should be acting older than 26, not younger. So whats with the flagrant disregard for authority? Why do I watch MTV, let alone wrestling? Why did I recently purchase skate trousers? Why do I still think that a cinnamon flavoured spirit should be chased down with the hottest hot sauce in all the land? Why the fuck do I use the word dude in normal conversation?
I look back at what Ive written and I see a grey-bearded, tie-wearing, drunken kid wearing baggy pants with a big, stupid, dangly chain between his belt and his wallet. Im really not that. And Im really not having a bitch here either. I love my life. At the moment I couldnt be happier. I just need some kind of handbook, some kind of manual, that explains how to grow up properly. Im obviously fucking it up on my own, because its all out of whack. I was all sensible and mature when I was 20. Nowadays I get the insane urge to go cow-tipping on the way home from the pub. Oh my God, I think Ive flunked growing up. I reckon I need to do re-sits.
Awwww, dude! Ill have to go to maturity summer school, that means no lawn parties.
Bogus.
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