Hate #2

So, this new blogpost has been in my head since wednesday night. Why? Well, what a difference 6 years make. Just hanging out with my brother and a few of his mates before Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and I go to the toilet, whilst washing my hands, I turrn to my right and the guy washing his hands was in my english class at school from maybe years 9-11 or 10-11.

I haven't seen many or any of the people who I went to school in 6 years, they all went to a sixth form and I went to a college an hour away to study performing arts. I didn't miss them, there were a few who I was still good mates with and then we all went our seperate ways.

Anyway, this guy, I'm going to call him Mick (that isn't his name, but what does it matter, I doubt he remembered mine).

Me: Alright.
Mick: Oh, alright Badger.
Me: Really??

Right then and there, I thought about landing a right hook on his temple. I don't know why I was ever called it, it didn't bother me too much but to just go out right and call me that? Fucking juvenile is what it is. I wasn't the smartest guy at school, I didn't care for school, I survived it. In between the exams, the fights, skipping classes and feigning sickness. I didn't want to learn anything, and most of the people at school were twats who I never socialised with. I reckon I learnt more outside of school than I ever did in it.

I've come along way since school, a really long way. I am completely different to how I was back then, my year 7-8 self was radically different to my years 9-11 self and so on. I don't even consider my time at school at part of me, it's almost like it happened to somebody else, I put it all behind me, I didn't need it and I never will.

Anyway after a while, we've in the pub talking for a minute about what we're doing and I'm talking like I did in school, not knowing what to say, looking all over the place apart from at him. The whole thing threw me off from what I'm usually like, more importantly, I didn't want to talk to him.

I tell him what I studied at Uni, "oh maybe you can get me to act in one of your films". The amount of pressure exerted by comments like that to me is bad, I hate talking about writing, apart from when I'm with friends because we all understand the process.

People expect the best from me when I tell them I want to be a professional screenwriter. My dad the most always asking when I'm "going to be sending off the script to Spielberg", how I never working on anything. I am just slowly thinking things through.

Anyway, Mick is a twat.