Lessons In Etiquette (or, How To Not Be Weird In Public)

I’ll be honest- I shouldn’t really be allowed out in public during normal business hours. Far too often I make a fool of myself, while trying oh-so-much to retain a shred of dignity. That shred often leads to the downfall, and for (I’d imagine) 3rd-person hilarity.

I had a job interview yesterday that was quite a way out of town. I’m never sure why companies insist on doing that, but the place (a fairly fancy hotel) was nice enough so I’m not going to complain. But it meant a bus ride was required.
Now, I don’t like travelling by bus- never have, really- and given the option, I’d rather walk everywhere, but the interview was mid-morning and would have been a mighty trek. Plus, it had been raining, and knowing my luck:
a) It would commence pouring down as soon as I was away from sheltered areas, or
b) In my fancy duds (yeah- I’ve got 2 pairs of trousers these days. One pair for best, of course), I’d get splashed at every opportunity by a plethora of vehicles.
So yeah- bus. Now, I normally take a book and my iPod- the combination of the two makes a near-impenetrable forcefield to avoid conversation, avoid eye contact and most importantly to keep the seat empty. But panic! I didn’t bring anything to read, and I didn’t particularly fancy listening to the dulcet tones of Einstürzende Neubauten at that precise moment. So, emergency back-up plan time. Do what everyone else does in this very situation.
Stare blankly out of the window.
There and back.
But anyway, after the morning’s interview, I met up with a friend for lunch in a coffee shop in town. Now, after learning my lesson from before regarding sauces and spices, I played it safe- cheese, tomato and pesto panini. What could possibly go wrong?…
Yup- cheesy meltdown. And I managed to do that ‘party trick’ where you eat a piece of cheese-laden bread, swallow it…but the cheese melted cheese is still attached to the sandwich. In your hand. Well, you sir are well and truly stuck.
I’m saying that, but Nico didn’t fare much better with her wrap. Hot molten cheese, plus tomato sauce. Accident waiting to happen.
Needless to say, we pretty much looked like the ‘special table’. Other customers may have been confused, worried or even terrified- it didn’t help we were giggling about it just as much, probably drawing more attention to our culinary plight. I have a strong feeling we may not be allowed in there again.
 
In all honesty, there isn’t a doodle (or doodles) that can really do the whole incident justice. You’ll just have to trust me.
However, some genius came from this insanity- we have devised a brand-new play. A play like no other (hopefully). I can’t say much about it right now, as it is still very much in the developmental stages, but I’ll give one clue:
I’m closer to being a DJ than a playwright with this.
A play made up of other work, but re-arranged, chopped and screwed, defaced- if you will- then drowned in a sea of leftfield popular culture references, non-sequiters, maybe even a musical number. We’ll see.
The name of this project? IF ALL ELSE FAILS, END ON JAZZ HANDS.
Yeah.
…ermm…well, because I’m not willing to go any further into the project, here’s a photograph of Van Halen instead. Enjoy:
(Dial Tone)
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