Saturday, 18 January 2014

"Them Damn Kids!"


Since I have a younger sibling, I've often been told how very, truly uncool I am. I don't understand the latest trends, the things that I like are from ages ago and no one even likes them anymore. Plus, apparently my sense of style is what old people wear. I can accept that a twelve-year-old can't truly appreciate Disney movies on video and that she probably doesn't understand that black goes with just about everything (yet). What I really don't understand though, are the habits of people just a bit younger than me. 





The other night, my friends and I all went on a night out, for the first time in ages. We were extremely excited and were ready to have some fun. We were merry at our local but suddenly a bunch of people who had been younger than us in high school turned up. I have to say that we never really spoke to them much while we were in school and even since we came to university we haven't had much to do with them. But here they were - at our local, sidling onto our table and pushing us into the corner. While I could just about handle that, it was when they spilt an entire pint of beer across our table, just to then leave and go to another table. My lap was covered in beer. My phone was covered in beer. And my people-rage doesn't allow for much room for error... We had to try and clean it up while they were happy to leave us to deal with it. I left in a rather stormy mood.




And it got me thinking that I seemed to have aged prematurely. I have, without my own knowledge, turned into an old fart.

I cannot stand people in the pub who make too much noise - don't scream when your favourite song comes on. Don't roar whenever someone does a shot. If your friend is sitting next to you, you do not need to yell. And please believe me when I say that no one wants to hear you sing, even if you did nearly get on to Britain's Got Talent that one time.




I do not understand why girls wear skirts/shorts/dresses that are so short that they have to make sure they have nice underwear . Before even considering how it makes people think of them, HOW ARE THEY NOT FREEZING ALL OF THE TIME? It is January. It is Winter. It is cold. If I have to wear a pair of tights, jacket, scarf, gloves and curl up in two sets of pyjamas at night, then you have no business going out wearing what could very loosely be referred to as lingerie. Get some clothes on, woman!




I also can't stand guys who go out thinking that they are God's gift to women. Generally they are surrounded by a mist of strong deodorant that makes you want to gag. They wear T-shirts covered in naked women or slogans about only living once, or some kind of phrase to that effect. (I can't say it, I won't.) Yes, I can buy my own drink. Yes, I'm aware that I have breasts - I am a twenty-year-old woman, after all. No, I'm not lonely tonight. And I also have no desire to party with you. Especially not if the party's in your pants...




Nights out are great fun, especially when you're with a great crowd. but they are making me increasingly aware of how little I fit in to the traditional university student image. Maybe it's nothing to worry about? I'll just go back to wearing my slippers, perming my hair and complaining about them damn kids...