melancholia

i shouted at someone tonight.

which, for me, is unusual.


i've not been feeling too well the past couple of days. this could be a lack of sleep, poor diet, hormones or a general build up of the life riff-raff that occasionally slaps you in the face. i pretty much struggled throughout today, but was feeling a little perkier when i left to go home (funny that....) so i invited my work colleague back for dinner. who in turn invited my flatmate and i to some live comedy which was being presented by the drama students as part of their coursework. my colleague used to do this course, so she knew how good it felt to pull a big crowd. i wasn't really up for anything except a bath and a dime bar, but a distraction can be a good thing, and sometimes my head doesn't need the opportunity to talk to itself.

so the three of us ambled down to this pub (a new one, not the best, but cheap drinks) to watch the five sets. and we sat behind two boys and two girls, who judging by their empty glasses, had been there a while.
to set the scene: a pretty, quiet blonde was sitting on the far left. an annoying drunk who i can only assume was her arrogant git of a boyfriend was next, then a pale, grey-faced weak character in wire rim glasses who looked like ben from eastenders. directly in front of me sat a dumpy girl in a woollen jumper, cheap grey stretchy 80s throwback skirt and hair that didn't look so much tousled as carwashed. so there's your scene.

and i barely noticed them as they chatted amongst themselves. until miraculously as soon as the first set came up, almost as if it was part of the act, the three nearest me came to life. laughing, giggling, heckling, shouting, muttering (the worst) and generally drawing as much attention as they could. and not in a audience participatory way- in a trouser wetting way for the poor students who were trying to continue around them. bearing in mind we had all paid to be there, i just didn't see the point in what they were doing. i have a pretty long fuse, but this had definately sparked it and frankly i just wasn't in the mood.

i have a lot of respect for comedians. it isn't just a case of writing and learning a script, but to keep that atmosphere and attention of a room full of people is incredibly demanding. and some of the students were clearly nervous- just as anyone would have been. these students were being marked on their performance, and this took into account how they dealt with hecklers and the like, so it seemed a little unfair to come to one of their smaller gigs and trip up their confidence a few weeks before they hit the london scene. bastards.

but like all the british, until you're hit, it's just not your ball to be playing with. so i bit my tongue.

my colleague is a sweet bubbly girl, who i love spending time with, and someone who has a very acute awareness of her slight body odour problem. i wouldn't call it a problem personally, not a lot seems to shock, embarrass or repulse me these days, but she is almost always hot and as a result has a tendancy to sweat a large amount. i can only imagine how difficult this must make her life, not just because body odour is something that we are supposed to all be able to control with ease, but because she is female and baggy ill fitting clothes are a bit harder to get away with. and most of all, because smell is something we all deny. unless you're with your best friend, they won't say your farts smell. ask someone if you smell and the instant reaction will be 'no!'. so my friend is never actually certain how much she smells, if it's her own paranoia. and with a condition which is difficult to control, maybe it's better that way.

i am a fiercely protective person, and will be the first to throw myself into an unnecessary situation in order to defend the people i care about. there is something about being taller than others that makes me assume i should be the one who fights for those who are shorter than me, despite the fact i have the strength of a squirrel.

so anyway. dumpy bitch has been annoying me for two sets. she isn't clever or funny, but quite clearly trying to fit in somewhere by desperately saying anything that might make people notice her. i didn't judge her, hell i could have once been her. and we're all young and insecure. but it's no excuse for making someone forget their lines on stage because they are so distracted by the noise you're making. so when she starts putting her tshirt over her nose and giggling, my ears pricked up defensively. she whispered and laughed. i looked at my friend, who was looking anxiously at herself. i glared but the girl didn't see. she was laughing with her weak rim glasses friend who also had his tshirt over his nose and was moaning 'something really smells!!! it's not me!!' i glanced back at my friend, who is looking for her handbag for her fresh wipes and looks like she might start crying. dumpy girl snorts and says 'well it's not me! i think, hey, i think it's her...' and just as her eyes start to shoot towards my friend, and just as my heart rate hit 210 in the realisation of what i was about to say, i leant forward, grabbed her by the shoulder and said with a venom i've not heard for a while, and ice eyes i've only heard about:

'can you either shut up, or fuck off, because this is getting really boring.'

and she did. at first, stunned. then she blinked a bit and the noise rushed in.

my heart in my ears, my flatmate besides me gasping, my work colleague laughing. the act, carrying on around me. the audience, oblivious, laughing, the four people now glaring at me, my throat swallowing.

shit.

dumpy girl going red, backing into her chair. dumpy girl's eyes glistening.

shit shit. don't fucking cry.

bbbb, bbbuut. why are you telling me to fuck off?

what do you say to that? its inaudible against my heart rate.

you're being rude, i hissed back. not wanting to point out what she had almost said about my colleague, but being faced with someone who won't admit she's been rumbled. because she didn't mean it. so she's going to cry.

well, you could have asked me nicely! she stammered.

i nearly laughed. i'm glad i didn't. ben from eastenders had his head down, the hero of the hour. his drunk mate was leering some shit, but i didn't care. justice was served!

but you still feel like a nob, when you settle back in your chair. the awkward five minutes whilst the heat rises and distills. they didn't speak, which gave credit to my angry eyes. the fact you feel like a teacher, or worse, a mum. the fake laughter i had to squeak out to cover the fact i was probably burning 370 calories an hour from adrenalin alone. and then of course, her reaction. i nearly made a girl in a woollen jumper cry. what kind of monster was i?

the guilt lasted all of five minutes. because as soon as the air passed, they all started again. not as loudly or distracting i might add, but word at a time it snuck back in- including a fist to flat palm action from the drunk guy with a head toss in my direction. i nearly laughed. i'm glad i didn't.

but their actions had been spotted, and for the last act the compere called on them as the butt of his jokes, the last act was extremely resilient to their taunts and made them look foolish and within a twenty minute slot, the whole audience was laughing at them triumphantly. dumpy girl was still trying to laugh it off, and still being obvious and not succeeding. and i felt amazing. not for shouting at people i might add, and some may read this and think it a fairly average event to occur. but today was a day for standing up and being alright with what i had to say- and more, realising that everyone else agreed too.

you know when you had a question in class, but didn't want to ask? and someone brave raises their hand and asks what everyone wants to know? well today i was someone brave. and it felt good.