BOSSERS & T*SSERS...

I know this blog is meant to be mainly about comics, collectables and nostalgia, but I occasionally like to widen the scope by yakkin' about 'human interest' stories.  The following post is me venting a bit, but it also contains a bit of advice for my fellow Crivvies, should they ever find themselves in a similar situation.  If this isn't your thing, feel free to skip it and wait for the next comics-related post to come along.

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Isn't it disappointing when you find out that someone you know is a pretentious poser?  Around the mid to late '80s, a fella I'd known from primary school and I renewed our acquaintance through a mutual friend.  His girlfriend at the time decided to go out to Japan as an English language teacher and he decided to do likewise.  Going from what happened, I suspect she was wanting to draw their relationship to a close by moving to another country, but he didn't take the hint.  The penny eventually dropped after they'd been out there for a year or two, when she said she was taking a two or three week holiday to go touring around some other country with one of her pals and that she'd see him on her return.  Thing is, she didn't - return that is.

He'd failed the four week course to determine whether he was capable of teaching English to Japanese students, but he didn't let that deter him.  He later asked me to amend his 'certificate' of failure into a pass, which I did, and he eventually became a director of studies in some school, college, or university.  Think about that: a director of studies in a school 'specialising' in a subject he wasn't qualified to teach, and, in fact, couldn't teach - if an example he himself provided to me is any indication.  Back then, long before Skype, we communicated by 'cassette-a-letter'.  I'd send him a cassette masquerading as a radio show (a combination of monologues and music) and he'd do likewise.

In one such show, he played an extract from a tape he'd made in one of his classes.  He asked a pair of young students two simple questions - "What's your name, and what age are you?" (or "Where are you from?" perhaps.)  Silence.  He tried again and was met with the same response.  Then he tried whispering the answers to them, but they still didn't respond.  In my next tape to him, I jokingly (well, half-jokingly) said that if that was the result of his two years teaching over there, he might be better considering another career.  His response?  "No, you don't understand, Gordon," he said, pompously and condescendingly.  "Japanese children are shy and reserved, and are taught to be quiet in the presence of adults."

Well, maybe in a social situation when their parents are visiting friends (the old 'children should be seen and not heard' concept), but certainly not in a teaching environment where even Japanese kids surely know that if teacher asks them a question, they're expected to respond.  So as you can see, he was full of p*sh.  There's an old saying - "You can't give what you don't have" - and as he wasn't even qualified to teach English in a UK school and wasn't able to speak or understand Japanese (apart from a few words perhaps), then he certainly wasn't capable of teaching the subject in a foreign place of learning.  What's more, by his own admission he's rarely and barely read a book in his life, and doesn't even read magazines properly, preferring just to look at the pictures and perhaps the captions.  Trust me, the guy is far from an intellectual giant and is pretty clueless in most things.  A teacher?  Nah, not by any stretch of the imagination, nor any proper definition of the word. 

It seems to me that the whole setup of Japanese English language schools is therefore flawed, as the best, easiest (if there is such a thing), quickest, and most effective way of teaching another language is to employ qualified language teachers who speak both languages equally fluently, not people who aren't qualified teachers, or who don't speak the language of those they're trying to teach.  As I said, you can't give what you don't have, but such establishments prefer to use white English-speaking westerners on the basis that students and their parents will assume that the best 'teachers' of English are those who grew up speaking it, regardless of whether they're qualified teachers or not.  That's why they'll often feature white people on their brochures, pamphlets and posters.

Anyway, a few years later after he'd returned to Scotland, we were travelling back from Glasgow on the train one day when he suddenly announced he was just going to indulge in a wee bit of transcendental meditation, shut his eyes, and proceeded to ignore me for two-thirds of the journey.  Well, whether or not you think you'd do the same if you were stuck next to me on a train (or anywhere), I considered it extremely bad-mannered.  Especially as it looked as if he was just having a kip.  To me, this was his pretentious way of trying to impress me with how 'enlightened' and 'spiritual' he was, and how much of a lesser evolved, primitive being I was in comparison.  Regardless, the time and place for indulging in such behaviour was surely at home and in his own time, not when he was in company?  What a prat!

The straw that broke the camel's back for me happened this way.  I'd treated him to a meal in a local eaterie one day, and he said he must return the favour.  He subsequently contacted me and arranged a day and time for us to meet at the same eaterie, his treat.  On the appointed hour, I turned up only for him to inform me that he fasted on that day, and would therefore not be partaking of a meal, but that I could 'wire in'.  "Why didn't you pick a day on which you didn't fast?" I asked.  "I forgot" he replied.  (I wasn't convinced.  He apparently fasted on the same day every week, so it was hardly something that would slip his mind.  Also, he had several days to remember before the event and reschedule.)  "So why do you fast?" I enquired.  "I give the money that I'd otherwise spend on food to charity" he answered, self-righteously.

"Why not just give money to charity and have a meal as well?  In what way does it benefit starving people for you to do without a main meal one day a week when you can afford to eat and donate to charity?  That just means there's one more hungry person that day, on top of all the others."  He thought for a moment.  "No, you don't understand, it allows me to better empathise with their situation, and besides, there are health benefits to fasting" he proclaimed.  While there appears to be some truth to the latter part of his claim, I expressed my doubt that his well-fed self skipping a meal or two in any way equated to the starvation pains of the less fortunate among us on the planet, or that it enabled him to meaningfully experience their poverty.  What a twonk!  "Okay, then why not eat today - especially as that's why we're both here - and fast tomorrow?" I asked.  I considered that a reasonable compromise.

However, he was unbending.  "No, I fast on a Tuesday (or whatever day it was), and I don't want to disrupt my routine."  I looked at him incredulously - he didn't seem to mind disrupting mine.  "In that case there's no point in either of us being here.  If I wanted to eat a meal for one, I can do that at any time without leaving my house."  We both exited the establishment, with me hanging back a little.  While he was distracted, I turned a corner and returned home.  Never spoke to him again for being such an intransigent, pretentious, posing, pr*ck.  This was confirmed to me when he contacted the local newspaper to get them to do an article on his 'altruistic' attitude.  (I trust you can detect irony.)  He seemed determined to project a certain kind of image of himself, instead of doing his 'good works' in a discreet manner.  Every action seemed designed to attract attention to what a kind, thoughtful, considerate, wonderful human being he thought he was.  In fact, I was convinced he'd picked that particular day just so he could 'unveil' to me his 'charitable' disposition.

He could be quite arrogant, and was known amongst his friends and family for being a bit of a 'bossy boots'.  Everything had to be done his way, and he tried to dominate conversations by simply refusing to stop talking and give anybody else a chance.  Around 29 years after I'd last spoken to him, he approached me in the local town centre one day, beaming in a friendly fashion and saying hello.  I decided to accept his olive branch and we renewed our friendship for a couple of years.  However, leopards don't change their spots.  While we were talking on the 'phone one day, he mentioned the girlfriend from over 30 years ago who'd run out on him.  I took this as my cue to say how badly he'd been treated, and broached the subject (that he'd raised, remember) by attempting to ask whether she'd ever got back in touch with him to apologise for her behaviour.

He wasn't having it.  In firm tones he announced that he was "not prepared to discuss the matter" and tried to talk over me and 'shout' me down - without even listening to what I was trying to say.  I thought this was unreasonable as he'd never before evinced any reluctance to talk about the situation, and indeed, we had spoken about it on a couple of previous occasions.  I felt that he should at least have the courtesy to listen to what I was trying to say first, as all I was doing was responding to a subject that he had raised.  But no, he'd made up his mind and there was no reasoning with him - he'd decided that things were going to go according to what he wanted, no one else.  Quite a few people he's known over the years no longer take anything to do with him, but he's convinced it's because they're jealous of his 'accomplishments' rather than because he p*sses everyone off with his overbearing, bossy attitude.  Let's take a quick look at those so-called accomplishments, eh?

He once worked as an extra on TV, until his services were (so I'm told by someone who knows him) 'no longer required' because of his irritating tendency to try and tell directors just how he'd have shot that scene.  He once worked as a programme controller for BBC Radio, until his job was given to someone else and he was demoted to a researcher.  And, as I said before, he once worked as an English language teacher in a Japanese school, even though he'd failed his four week course to determine whether he was capable of such a thing.  He wasn't - he was deemed as not having sufficient skill or knowledge to do the job, but he went over to Japan anyway and conned his way into a position.  So, no achievement of any long-term ambition, merely dabbling in a succession of whatever opportunities happened to present themselves.  And now he has a part-time job in a tiny cinema collecting tickets from a handful of punters.  Way to go, eh?  "Made it, ma - top of the world!"

Anyway, I told him to sling his hook, and he responded by saying that I didn't have the sense not to talk about certain things, which I considered a bit of a cheek as he'd been the one to first mention them.  He's married with a family now, has been for at least 20 years.  As this former girlfriend was more than 30 years ago, you'd think he'd be over it by now, but regardless, if there's something he doesn't want to talk about, then he shouldn't raise the subject to others, and then try and shoot them down when all they're trying to do is show (or feign) an interest in a topic he introduced into the conversation.  He's either a bit of a control freak (which is why she probably did a runner) or just totally bloody clueless.  I'd say both.  He fancies himself as a 'problem solver', but doesn't have the sense to see that he's usually the one causing the problem.

You can tell I'm annoyed, but this post is more than just a 'hatchet job' in order to put the boot in.  One day I'll tell you another tale about another friend who I didn't speak to for 27 years.  In that time he'd become an alcoholic and a drug addict, and was rude, bad tempered, and paranoid (and a thief), with a tenuous grip on reality.  We revived our friendship for a short while, but I jettisoned him when he simply became more hard work than he was worth.

So I've had a vent, but that's only part of the reason for this post.  Obviously, the requirement of having a topic to write about occasionally necessitates mining the raw material of my own life in order to provide you Crivvies with something to read, but if I may, I'd like to offer you a piece of advice.  I'd strongly recommend that should a former friend from your past wish to come back into your life, give the 'opportunity' a miss.  However well it starts off, eventually they'll let you down again, because whatever it was about them that may've annoyed, disappointed, or offended you years before will be repeated, and leave you wondering why you ever bothered giving them another chance.

As I said, leopards don't change their spots - and neither do total feckin' @rseholes.  Do yourself a favour and spare yourselves from such situations.  And if you've ever experienced any similar moments, feel free to vent in the comments section.  Group hug (but put your clothes back on first, Melvin).