Friday 4th June
I am sitting outside as I write this, drinking a black coffee and smoking a cigarette (superking, obviously). Birds are chirping, the sun is shining and I’m feeling a pleasant sense of familiarity as I think back to the time I spent writing whilst sitting outside last summer. Every so often a dog will bark or a car will pass by to remind me that other living beings do exist but, other than that, my garden feels like a sanctuary, separate from the outside world but not detached, quiet but not silent, alone but not lonely. It’s a remarkably satisfying way to spend a Friday morning.
Last Saturday I went out for bottomless brunch with Lizzie, Liam and Elia and it was surreal to sit inside a restaurant for the first time this year, despite it being the end of May. I find the ease with which we have returned to ordinary life subtly reassuring, as if we’ve come to accept the world in which we live might never return to normal but we’re going to make the best of it anyway. In all fairness, aside from the mask wearing and hand sanitising, there isn’t a hugely noticeable difference to pre-pandemic times, other than the fact I appreciated the opportunity to spend time with my friends far more than I would have done fifteen months ago. My behaviour was exactly what you’d expect and nothing to write him about – I drank more than I should have, spent more than I should have and ended the day eating a takeaway in Lizzies conservatory – but it felt like the best day ever, finally free to indulge in gluttonous excess and only having to worry about the monetary expense and physical punishment the next day. Normality might be foreseeable and uninteresting, but by god it’s good to have it back.
I have decided not to study for my masters. Long story short, I have a slightly alarming amount of credit card debt (shocking, I know), so if I want to sustain my current lifestyle, I need to earn more money. I’ve therefore decided to get a full time job. I know it may seem short sighted to put my social life above my education, but I’m not sure what I want to do in the long term so, because of that, I’m not willing to sacrifice going out and holidays to get a degree which might not even help me get where I want to be. I’m twenty two, I’m not ready to be boring yet, I want to go out every weekend and have fun. Once I’ve paid my debts, there is nothing to stop me going back to study for my masters in a few years time, but right now it seems obvious to me that getting a full time job is the responsible and sensible decision. I’m not bitter about it because all I’m really doing is finally facing the consequences of my frankly deranged financial irresponsibility whilst I was at University. Besides, it was only a matter of time before I was forced to conform to societal expectations. Congratulations, capitalism, you won. What a sad little life.
Monday 7th June
Cut to a few days later. I’m sitting behind the counter in the bookies in a Germany t-shirt (the euros are coming up and I enjoy angering racist old men), cursing whoever it was that came up with the idea of keeping the bookies until 10pm. Seriously, who the fuck needs to go to a bookies that late in the evening? It’s monstrous. Oh well, hopefully I won’t be here much longer.
As my time working in bookmakers comes to an end, I’ve been reflecting on the many lessons I’ve learned over the years. I’ve met some very interesting people, both colleagues and customers, and I’ve often really enjoyed it. I’ve been thinking about Dee, who let me stay at her house once a week when I was working in Cottingham after I’d moved out of student accommodation, or Dave, my manager in Hull who provided me with one of the most extensive and enjoyable quote lists I’ve ever made, my personal favourite being, during a discussion about some of the regular customers, “They all love me. I’m not sure why, I fucking hate every single one of them”. It almost feels as though the end of my bookmaking career is just as momentous as my graduation, perhaps even more so considering I spent much more time working than I ever did studying, but ultimately it’s a shit job for shit money and it’s time to move on. I will miss it though.
Wednesday 9th June
It’s a gorgeous Wednesday morning. I find myself sitting outside, smoking a cigarette, drinking a black coffee and listening to Orlando. Some could argue that predictability is mundane but I would suggest that there’s a distinctly reassuring comfort to be found in behaviour that you’re able to anticipate.
On Saturday evening I went for dinner at Elia’s, along with her boyfriend Jack, Lizzie and Liam. Fifth wheeling was a new experience for me, and one I would have balked at just a few years ago, yet I found it to be quite enjoyable. Lizzie provided the starter, which was chips, dips and ham, or nibbly bits to be middle class about it, I cooked a stir fry for the main course and Elia made an absolutely delectable tiramisu for dessert, which was so nice I couldn’t help but go back for a second and third serving. Amazingly I chose not to drink, which made me feel awfully old, but the fact I still managed to have a lovely time made me feel even older. After dinner we sat drinking tea and watching golf, talking about house prices and planning a trip to Ascot & Windsor for Elia and I next month, as we’ve decided it’s not worth the hassle of trying to go abroad. If you’d have told a seventeen year old me that this was how he was going to be spending a Saturday evening as a twenty two year old he’d have probably called you a sad bastard, yet there was plenty to be appreciated about spending a nice quiet evening in with good friends and good food. God forbid, I think I might actually be growing up.
Just in case you were worrying that a dinner party wasn’t quite enough to burnish my mature, middle class credentials, I’m playing golf this afternoon with Harry and Sam at Branston Golf & Country Club, where I’m now a member. If I’m being completely honest with you, it’s a difficult lifestyle to maintain, but I have long accepted that some of us in life have to enjoy the finer things and, if that burden falls on me, I have no choice but to grudgingly accept. I’ve been having lessons with an old friend of mine and I can’t quite believe just how bad my game was before. I’m already seeing a huge improvement and it’s nice to finally have a respectable hobby that doesn’t involve getting blackout drunk or gambling too much money, not that I’ll be refraining from those activities in future, but you know what I mean.
I hope you’re all well. Just remember, we live on a floating rock and nothing you say or do matters at all. Stay safe.
