High Jinks at QUT

I had a very strange day at Uni a couple of weeks back. The events of the day were covered in a milky haze as the affects of the previous night’s rip-roaring drunken stupor slowly dissipated. Much to my surprise, however, I didn’t wake up with a hangover in the morning. Instead, some of my cognitive faculties were not quite functioning at full capacity. This would have been fine had I stayed home for the day, but I didn’t. The first interesting encounter happened in my very first lecture. I was sitting there, listening to the lecturer as he crapped on about his meandering experiences in a quiet, monosyllabic tone. At this point, the stooge sitting next to me whose name I did not catch, and who I have no desire to ever meet again, whispered a joke in my direction. It was a particularly poor joke, but rather than simply telling him “mate that wasn’t funny” I felt I had to appease him with a subtle fake laugh. I’m normally very good at this, but because my mind was a little hazy I misjudged how loud I was and blurted a very loud, rather boisterous “ha-HA!!” at him.

The lecturer paused.

I heard girls at the back of the room giggling about the ‘retard who can’t keep quiet’.

The stooge didn’t talk to me again….so, mission accomplished.

The second interesting encounter was in the library directly after this lecture. I was checking my emails (I had none) and checking to see if I had any new MySpace comments (I didn’t), when a friend of a friend snuck up behind me and scared nine shades of shit out of me. He was meant to attend the abovementioned night of drinking but couldn’t make it because he had to work. He wanted me to tell him who was there, and I happily obliged.

“Adam, Jacinta, Lee…” I said, “…oh and Lucy. She’s got big tits.”

Perhaps I should explain. I had intended to say the last part in a facetious way. Though it is true, and Lucy does have big tits, I said it for a laugh. Did I say it in a facetious way, I hear you ask? No. Rather I said it in the way a sexual predator would speak of his next victim. The trouble was that my mind was a little hazy and I didn’t say it with a smile or a giggle that would ordinarily signal that it was a joke. Instead, we stood in silence, looking at each other and hoping for someone else to fart loudly to divert our attention away from the present discomfort.

Later, while walking down a narrow walkway, I was reflecting on the ‘library ordeal’ when the third interesting encounter occurred. I thought the whole thing was kinda funny in hindsight and I was having a giggle to myself about it all. My eyes were fixed on the ground while I was walking along the walkway, so people wouldn’t think I was some kind of weirdo who was laughing for no foreseeable reason. I stave off many a queer look that way. I then felt that I should probably look where I was going so I didn’t end up ass over tit. I was still visibly and audibly tickled about something as my eyes met with those of the girl who was walking in the opposite direction. Imagine my discomfort when I discover that the girl has a gumby leg and is lumbering at me with the poise and grace of a smoko-lady who was chewing Minties with her arse. My heart sank, and evidently, hers did too. She gave me a look that asked “You’re laughing at a disabled person?” and then exclaimed “You monster!”

I didn’t try to explain myself for fear of blurting out something about big tits. I just kept walking.

Clearly, I have to drink more often.