facesoffiction:I want to explain a theory. This concept may apply to your life, it sure as hell appl
facesoffiction:I want to explain a theory. This concept may apply to your life, it sure as hell applies to mine. It’s called the Superiority theory, proposed by Thomas Hobbes in his 1651 Leviathan. He described humour as: “…the sudden glory arising from the sudden conception of some eminency in ourselves, by comparison with the infirmity of others.” In more simple terms: we, as a society, laugh at those more unfortunate to us. This can be applied to any source of entertainment: somebody walks into a lamppost, we laugh; somebody’s ears are too big for their head, we laugh; somebody’s fake boob implodes, we laugh. Unfortunately for me, I am usually the object being mocked rather than the other way round. It’s not intentional, I’d much rather be the audience than the clown. I’m like the less extreme version of Oedipus, I don’t go looking for trouble, yet my fate always finds me. Everyone goes through that stage in their life where they’re socially awkward, physically awkward and emotionally awkward. Right? If you’re a lucky bastard you may have skipped this stage. Even Wayne Rooney suffers, I mean he is constantly showered with luck: the job, the wife, the money. But his face? Poor bugger. This stage doesn’t last forever and once you’re free, then you are all like birds flying from the nest, soaring further away from the memories deleting them from your brain like a selection of unwanted pictures from the drunken night before. I have not been so fortunate to escape this phase yet. Will I ever be?And I’m not here to complain about my life, dramatising things so that you end up wanting to punch me in the face anyways. Us Britons are the most awkward people alive. Forgetting people’s names, sweat patches, tripping in public, food stuck in teeth, burping accidently. We’ve all gone through it.As an aspiring writer myself I’ve been encouraged by this singular quote: “Write what you know, son.” Yes, it’s a quote from my mum and yes I think it’s a bloody good one. From this I’ve decided to write down my embarrassing life stories in an attempt to see where I’m going wrong. Can I escape my fate?Incident number one: Guilty pleasure. I walked through the door to my parents’ house, shut it quietly behind me and made my way to the kitchen. Like a chef in his five star hotel, I set to work grabbing and chucking every ingredient needed onto the counter. I was about to make the perfect sandwich. Two slices of thick bread, tomato, lettuce, chicken and a slurp of mayo later and I was ready to go. The sandwich was placed onto a plate and my legs directed me to the front room. I grabbed the TV remote. I switched the TV on. I sat down. The screen came to life and I changed it to the channel wanted. Kim Kardashian’s face stared back at me. She had been crying, again. My hands clutched the sandwich making their way towards my mouth and decided at that specific moment I didn’t want to be anywhere else.We all have that one guilty pleasure whether it be a hit reality TV show, like Keeping up with the Kardashians’, a pop band like One Direction or doughnuts dipped in chocolate and coated in abnormal amounts of sugar. I used to hide my guilty pleasure, as most do, in complete shame. This changed when I was nominated for burger duty at work one day. The stench of onion was in the air, which didn’t help with my eye sight plus sweat was dripping from my forehead like a broken boiler. It was uncontrollable. This was the time that I had my first conversation with Holly. The topic: Keeping up with the Kardashians. We both agreed Kim was a drama queen, Kourtney a bitch and Khloe as our favourite. By the end of that unforgettable conversation I had her number and a mate date. She was coming over to mine for a binge watch of the greatest show. My guilty pleasure wasn’t looking so shameful after all. The door knocked and my heart skipped a beat, like a school boy seeing his childhood sweetheart on the playground. Standing up, I brushed the crumbs from my trousers, making my way to the door. I opened it and stared at the sight in front of me: Holly. Smiling, I beckoned with my hand. She returned the smile and attempted to enter the premises, an action awkwardly halted due to my stupid positioning at the door. I quickly backed away slightly resembling a deer caught in headlights and tripped over the umbrella stand as I did so. Smooth. “Sorry. Please come in. Make yourself at home. Would you like some tea? Coffee? Doughnut? Maybe a sandwich?”“A cup of tea would be lovely” Holly replied, “You ready for some Kardashians?” “I’m always ready for some Kardashians.”After some more small talk while I prepared tea, we made our way to the living room and made ourselves comfortable on the sofa. We have all seen or at least heard of those famous cliché films that all the girls’ watch. You have the classic nerd who in the end finds true love with the hot chic. If you’re looking at the 90s this relates to films such as ‘Clueless.’ This can also be related to modern television series such as ‘Gossip Girl.’ Even Lucas from ‘Pretty Little Liars’ seemed to get laid at least once in that series. This was my moment, my time, my opportunity.Before I knew it time had passed and I’d lost count of how many episodes we had watched. Admittedly I spent 50% of my time actually watching the TV screen and the other 50% was spent sending sneaky glances at Holly. Conversation was not on the agenda but this did not worry me so much as I’m not the best conversationalist. An advert showing (something) was on and I felt this was the right time to begin my tactics which I had planned for all eternity. I bent down towards the floor, seductively sticking my backside in the air. I wiggled slightly as though I couldn’t find what I was looking for then grabbed a magazine from the shelf. I pulled myself up, slowly turned my face towards Holly and smiled the sexiest smile I could conjure up. She laughed. Next I flicked open the magazine to a page which was titled: “men’s hot beach bods” and showed it to Holly. I raised my eyebrows and nodded slightly in the hope to emphasise that I am appreciative and definitely not the jealous type. Again she laughed. My finale was simple. I worked my way down the sofa to the direction of Holly, making my moves subtle. I yawned placing my arm around her shoulder. I had seen this tactic on the TV. I admired this tactic. Holly clearly didn’t for all she did was laugh. “Why you laughing?” I asked trying to hide the annoyance in my tone. “Sorry, I assumed you were trying to be funny” she replied sheepishly: “So if you could date Scott or Rob who would it be?”“Neither, I’m straight.”“Oh.”Needless to say I went back to hiding my guilty pleasure in shame.Incident number two: Best friend and the mum.As my friends chatted amongst themselves, I theorised as to why my house had been nominated for Jake’s birthday party. There’s always been this inside joke in which Jake is in love with my mum. And as a virgin everyone’s rooting for him to get laid. Apparently my house is the perfect place for this to happen. I’m okay with his infatuation, partially because my mum is not into toy boys therefore nothing with ever happen but also because I enjoy seeing his puppy like features light up with eagerness. The party was going okay, as any party hosted by nerds would. We had a good turn out with guys from uni, plus a few from mine and Jake’s workplace. My mum hostess skills were on top form. I think everyone stayed for the food really, my mum’s talent as a chef was an added benefit. 4 hours later and most people had left. I figured Jake was still about, probably sneaked away to play my Xbox. He’s not too good on the socialising front. Mum had vanished, cleaning wasn’t something she enjoyed so I set off on my mission to get the house spotless. I started off with the living room, for I decided it would be the easiest option. It didn’t take me long to tidy away, it’s not like the party was wild. There were no spilt drinks, ownerless bras or sick in our flower vases. Next I moved onto the kitchen and although more of a challenge it didn’t take me very long to throw a few paper plates away and wrap up the remainder of the food. A thought began to bug in my mind: where on earth were Jake and my mum. For one this was Jake’s party, which he sort of ordered would happen at my house; so why was I the only one clearing away. I looked at the line at beer bottles on the counter and wondered how drunk he had actually got himself. I came to the realisation that I lost sight of him pretty quickly tonight, the last time I saw him was 2 hours ago. By that point he had drunk a huge amount of beers, but I left him to it for it’s his birthday after all. I probably shouldn’t have done that. He was most likely face first in a bush somewhere. My plan was simple: find mum and then we could both search for Jake. I am a worrier, therefore thoughts and images about what had happened to him formed in my mind. Pushing them aside I turned round to make my way to the front door. I froze. The sofa was now occupied by two bouncing heads which looked detached from their bodies due to where the sofa line cut off. I hadn’t heard them come in. One of these floating heads was Jake. The other I couldn’t quite work out. But I recognised the straightened blonde hair. My mum? They were almost touching and I went to scream at them but no sound came out. I decided to use my body instead and launched myself at them aiming for the middle to divide them up. I landed face down towards the carpet. I felt a hand place itself slowly on my head. I twisted to see the sight above me. Staring down were two surprised faces, the first was Jake, the second Holly. -- source link