Sup peeps. It’s been a while. I’ve been back in the UK 10months now and haven’t written since so wanted to have another pop. If that’s not sucked you in then I don’t know what will so strap in, it’s gona be a ride.
Whilst I was travelling Central America it soon became apparent that in order to be a real traveller there were a few things you had to do:
1. Never wash
2. Get a stick
3. Play an instrument
4. Befriend an old man
5. Wear Aladdin trousers
The stick was a walking aid, apparently vital for the 18-25 year old gap year market. It didn’t matter what the instrument was as long as you had absolutely no idea how to play it. The old man had to have a beard and the Aladdin trousers had to be the loudest colour(s) you could find.
I’ve gotta be honest I thought it was all a bit silly and even though I had an amazing time, by the end I was looking forward to getting back to normal society.
Once I was back I decided I better start looking for a job. Knowing I’d be short my Mum had brought me some more socks with the day written on them. She’s my Mum, she knows what I’m like. These ones weren’t any ordinary day of the week socks though they had a lil adjective for each day. Starting a bit miserable and then getting cheerier as the week went on. Monday was moody and Thursday was thirsty for example. Anyway they stopped me from going to work on a weekend so I couldn’t really complain. After lots of job hunting (always had Tuesdays off, they were troublesome apparently) I got an interview. Result.
So I whipped off my Aladdin trousers, stuck my suit on and toddled off to London with my stick. Apart from the fella wearing pink trousers in the office lobby and everyone doing that double kiss thing to greet each other (which always ends in embarrassment) the interview was going great.
Chuffed with how it was going I leant back in my chair and put my right leg over my left leg to create a relaxed air of confidence and an approachable demeanor, as I did this I saw a look of horror on the interviewers face. I looked down to where her eyes were transfixed and there, on my socks, in bright red it said…
‘Frisky Friday?’
I felt like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct.
There and then I knew it was over. I’d already got the double kiss in reception all wrong. I was attempting ‘approachable and confident’ but requesting a fumble via the medium of a raised trouser leg and a suggestive sock was never part of the plan.
Anyway I picked myself up, brushed myself down and after a few weeks I got a job and was back in the game. I didn’t wear socks to the interview which I think they thought was a strange choice, especially with a suit but I wasn’t taking any chances. After a couple of months of working I started to put a ‘little’ bit of weight on, we’ve all been there, let’s not dwell on it. My family and friends were having a whale of a time whilst I was just getting called a whale so I thought it was time to re-assess my diet. Most days I would go to Sainsburys but I’d look at most people in the queue and they would be getting salads and yoghurts while I’d always go for a sandwich, crisps, sausage roll, fizzy pop and a mars bar. After realizing I was on the fast track to chubby town I bowled up one day, dragged myself away from the confectionary and got a banana and an orange juice to go with my sausage roll and space invaders. One step at a time I thought to myself. I walked out all proud, stuck my straw in my freshly squeezed OJ and tucked it under my arm to start on my banana. As I peeled it open, half of it broke off and started hurtling towards the ground. In a desperate attempt to save it (I’m a big lad, I need my grub) I bent over and tried to catch it. As I did so the freshly squeezed orange juice under my arm squished and squirted out in front of me. It was a packed shopping precinct so I feared the worst. Time stood still as I looked up more slowly than I ever have in my life to see a middle aged lady with orange juice all over her boobs.
I avoided cheap gags like ‘juicy tits’ or ‘can I help you with that?’ and instead apologized and tried to explain to her that it was organic and didn’t have any juicy bits so it could have been worse but it wasn’t helping.
That was the last day I ever brought fruit and a non-cola based drink. It’s nothing but trouble.
Another time Luce and I were going to Dublin for a few guinesses (terrible for weight gain) and a weekend away. I was in the line to board, loving life doing my best Riverdance impression. I had my saucy Saturday socks on; today was gona be a good day. Then I was approached by one of the airline staff members who asked to weigh my bag. Sure enough it was too big. She said ‘excuse me Sir, you’re overweight’. I said ‘Don’t you start!’
Anyway she asked me to check it in but worried we wouldn’t get a seat together I said I’d put a few bits on. A few bits turned into 3 t-shirts, 4 jumpers, 2 hoodies, a coat, and 3 towels (2 bath, 1 hand).
I waddled on board, looking like the whole healthy eating incident was a complete waste of time, to be greeted by a very smiley little Irish fella. I had a quick glance down to make sure my Saucy Saturday? socks weren’t winking at him (not that he would have gone for me unless he liked em ‘cuddly’) and then looked back up to see him holding out his hand…
‘Welcome aboard sir’
I shook his hand and said ‘thanks very much’
He said ‘errr, no sir, can I see your boarding pass please?’
Turns out he didn’t wana shake my hand at all. Nothing but rude these airline staff. So I gave him my boarding pass, a kiss on each cheek and strolled on.
Essentially that’s my last 10 months in a nutshell and you know what all this has made me realise? I’ll tell ya. It’s made me realise that the Aladdin’s had got it spot on from the beginning.
Let’s look at the facts.
They’re trousers are so silly they are always unemployed – avoids any awkward interview situations / sexual harassment allegations.
They’re loose fitting and elasticated around the waist – means you can eat as much as you like without having to worry about getting your top button done up and there’s plenty of space for towels if you get caught short at the airport.
I’ve dug mine out the cupboard and ordered some new ones with adjectives on the bum like ‘booty’ and ‘juicy’. Yeah I’m fat and unemployed but at least I won’t look stupid. In your face society.
Luce in her Aladdin trousers
I thought they talked english over here 