Divert

So I was on the bus the other day, staring out of the window. The traffic was crawling and I was doing my best to avoid eye contact with anyone. I was going through Brixton and didn’t want to get shanked after all.

I don’t mean to stereotype but… well you know.

Then, while idly gazing, I spotted someone I knew – someone who I hadn’t seen in a while.

I was bored and had nothing to do so I thought, I know, I’ll ring them and say something like “I can see you…” It’ll be hilarious and not at all creepy.

So I did.

As the number started ringing, I sniggered to myself at the prospect of how funny I was sure this was going to be. ‘He’s going to be so freaked out’, I thought. ‘But it’ll be a great icebreaker considering we haven’t spoken for a few months.’

It rang and rang and I saw him fishing around in his jacket pocket. I smiled moronically as I thought about how clever I was being. And at what his reaction might be and how we’d laugh and then maybe go to the pub and have some pints over a nice chat.

“I’m sorry, the person you have called is not available. Please leave a message after the tone”.

Oh.

He hung up on me. 

I saw him look at his phone and press the red button. 

What the fuck?

Had I done something to piss him off that I couldn't remember? It wasn’t entirely unlikely. But I was sure I hadn’t. I could remember the last time we’d seen each other and it had all been fairly normal. I don’t think I was even drunk, which normally rules out me overly offending someone ­– well certainly not to the point of them diverting my call to voicemail at least.

Then I got angry. I thought, ‘How dare you!’ I haven’t done anything and you’ve had the gall to thoughtlessly rebuff me. I wanted to call again and leave a nasty message. But then he would know that I knew what he’d done. And then it would be awkward if we were to see each other at an organised event in the future. I hate awkwardness.

So I refrained. I’ll think of something. Something mean. He’ll rue the day he rebuffed me!

No one rebuffs Alex Cu... “I’m sorry, the person you have called is not available. Please leave a message after the tone.”

Innurendo

I’m having a crisis (teehee).

I’m not sure I’m funny anymore.

Those of you who’ve had the pleasure of my company will know that my sense of humour tends to rely on smut and innuendo, with a dollop of vulgarity on the side. I think all these things are hilarious but my fear is that slowly but surely no one else will.

The problem is that as our society * rolls eyes * becomes ever more desensitised to foul language, crude subject matter and innuendo, my comedic breadth narrows.

Innuendo – the most sophisticated form of humour I possess – particularly suffers as a result. It’s only funny when some people are in on the joke but others aren’t. However, if everyone's in on it, it’s all over. The attempt at inducing a snigger has failed. The best you can hope for is a pity laugh, but no one likes those.

What makes it worse is that I’ve found that not only am I failing to provoke laughter, I’m inadvertently making people, who aren’t generally funny, seem funnier. As you can imagine, this irritates me somewhat.

I’ll make a hilarious comment like…….. "That’s what she said" (a classic) which will then get immediately shot down with something like "Yes, my gran loves it rough."

Where do I go from there?

That comment receives 10 times the laughter of mine and I'm powerless. All I can do is retreat to my unfunny hole and plot the gruesome murder of the bastard who upstaged me.

Essentially, I think my problem boils down to the fact that I’m not living in a Carry On film. If I was, I would easily be the funniest person on the planet. Fuck Barbara Windsor.

Oh well, at least I can rely on trusty old sarcasm.

You what?

Pshhh yeh "whatever".