Today was a black day.
I was upset that my mates – in quotation marks – had deserted me again. I didn’t write much else on the subject today, but from memory Friday was the only day that I had a lesson with any one of them immediately before lunchtime.
Accordingly, we would come down from our Physics lesson to wait for the others. Now considering that they never, ever waited for me on the other four days of the week, I though it more than a little, ahem, unjust that I should be expected to wait for them on a Friday. I would ask the lad (mate seems more than a little inappropriate) with whom I had just finished Physics if he wanted to ‘go up town’ for lunch. He would always say, ‘Nah, let’s wait for the others.’ And that would be that. I could either wait with him or depart on my own.
Now this raises a discussion on the whole issue of my friendships at sixth form. When I look back I realise that I really should have made the effort to start again and make a new set of friends – I managed it at University, but it seemed that it was beyond me at sixth form. It was so frustrating and I was so utterly hacked off by the whole situation.
We studied an A Level called General Studies which was an opportunity for us to broaden our minds and take a look at things outside of the scope of our other A Levels. Instead of going to those lessons that I wanted to, I would faithfully tag along to whichever lesson these other lads had decided they wanted to attend. For example, instead of attending a series of lessons about the relationship between the relationship between the two Germanies – East and West, I trundled along to some lessons about f***ing jazz music. Just because lads A and B wanted to go along to that together and act like the pair of smug, self-satisfied pillocks that they were.
No matter, at least I had the prospect of rolling around the living room floor losing myself in laughter at Friday Night Live. Fridays weren’t so bad.