I’m not going to preach or pontificate, or at the very least I’ll at least try to keep all preachiness and pontifications to a minimum. I simply thought that maybe an every-mans view of the issue may be more tolerable to some than the endless opinions of the pseudo-intellectuals, politicians and religious zealots.
I may, however, swear and cast aspersions.
Before I begin I also want to say; being a guy that is into chicks I straight up acknowledge that there are many people out there far more knowledgeable on the subject that I am. You know, people that have actual experience being in same sex relationships and are therefore far more qualified to comment on how marital prejudice personally affects them and their relationships.
It’s 3:00pm on a Saturday afternoon and I find myself sharing a bar with a group of people celebrating their Primary School reunion. Which is apparently a thing people do. They all appear to be in their late 40’s/early 50’s and they’re all completely wrecked. Endless waves of Sambuca shots chased by pints of beer will do that to a person.
Because I’m totes sneaky and am always on the lookout for prime blog fodder I accidentally overhear the following quotes which, without the context of 40 years plus of shared experience, all sound somewhat deranged.
For all of those that haven’t been paying attention, I’m a counsellor and I work at a High School. Recently I was called into a classroom by an English teacher to help deescalate a student from going full ham. Which I was able to do because I’m awesome at my job and speak the language of the voiceless and disenfranchised.
I asked if I could stay in the room, telling the teacher and students I wanted to avoid doing paperwork, but secretly wanting to monitor the student/situation lest shit escalate again. I also wanted to avoid doing paperwork.
This afternoon I found myself on a train. With other people. Which sucks. As previously established, I’m not very good at trains.
Sitting directly behind me was a mother, who I’m sure was a teenager in the 90’s, and her three children. The eldest, a girl that couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven, kept singing a single line from Aqua’s Cartoon Heroes. Over and over again. Very loudly.
So. I haven’t written anything more substantial than an email in quite a while. Admittedly a number of those emails were quite profound; like when confirming my attendance at upcoming team meetings in the vein of an overwrought Hemingway. And granted, I have written a few texts that have ended up being an epic four or five “pages” long. Hell, even some of my snapchats can get pretty wordy. No mere “send nudes” from this little black duck.