Continuous Misfortunes

Continuous misfortunes,

Or spontaneity doesn't always travel far

I vacated my abode with the most neutral possible emotions I am able to muster. The reason for my neutrality is that I am scheduled to attend a party, a soiree as it were. Gatherings such as these are ones that I have never found myself capable of letting loose a fixed opinion upon. However, providing the party’s host with any evidence of my indifferent feelings would be a severe act of social dim-wittedness. So in an attempt to exhibit a more enthusiastic exterior I have spontaneously chosen to wear a purple bowler hat to the event (the initial purchase of which was equally as spontaneous). A terrible injustice will have occurred if I do not take any liberty to further describe said purple bowler hat. You believe it is not possible to be more specific than that? Challenge willingly accepted.

            The hat boasts of a predominantly round build minus a barely visible and removable indentation located on the hats crown. The material from which the accessory has been constructed is perhaps best described as an affordably manufactured felt .The felt has been dyed a shade of purple bordering on entrance into the lilac calibre. Strewn in a loosely methodical fashion over the base of this hat are spots of various colours.  An orange band is suitably located within proximity to the brim of the hat. In short, the hat is one I would not wish to be witnessed equipped with outside the realms of a social environment.  Perhaps not as short an explanation as I had vied for.

It should be noted at this point gentles that spontaneity is not a trait that I am renowned to possess. Infact the contrary can be stated. I indeed harbour a desire for routine and organisation beyond that of the majority of other teenagers. I frequently take two illustrating the conduction of certain tasks or the outcome of certain scenarios on graph paper. This is a character attribute that has unsurprisingly attracted the attention of others. Consequently I have been bestowed with the moniker of “The Draughtsman”.

I have reached the midway point of my commute and am instantaneously subject to sneezing profusely. This is not an attack I am able to simply tolerate. My suffering from hay feaver is indisputably responsible. I will need to rebel, if you like, against this episode.

I enter a local establishment known for distributing a plethora of both practical and impractical items. None the less I find myself unable to refer to this shop as a supermarket, as they seldom appear to barter any vittles’ or other such resources. However they do exchange tablets designed specifically to treat the symptoms of hayfeaver.  I will provide mention to the fact that I have at this point concealed my bowler hat within the confines of my backpack that also encloses a number of other items I see it unfit to depart from my settlement without. I remove my bowler hat from my bag in order to more efficiently reach my wallet. I decide to hang the hat on a nearby hat stand. I had infact initially acquired the hat from this very emporium. After making my purchase the cashier appears to dematerialise into a store room. She is replaced with another .Similar in dress but dis similar in other dimensions of physical appearance. In only an approximate second after once again donning my bowler hat, implying my planned departure from the building I am pursued by two of the security guards. I have a fierce or intense dislike of every variation of physical contact. I cannot abide being touched; the amount of bacteria that could transfer from such an encounter is harrowing. In addition my hands will only ever be gloved when coming into contact with door handles, buttons in an elevator or the various forms of currency.

Their build is almost identical to one another’s. Meaning they are both equally as imposing and if pitted against both titans simultaneously my life would be abruptly truncated. It is explained I am believed to have stolen the hat. The replacement cashier was not gifted with any concept of the events that unfolded prior to witnessing me removing a hat from a hat stand and then gesturing towards the general area outside of the shops confines. Usually I travel with a large group of receipts in order to rectify a situation of potential comparability to this one. I have chosen an inadequate in which to refrain from the bringing of said receipts. I am left with a predicament, due to the incompetence of another humble employee of the curious emporium, the security camera transpires not to be operating adequately. This along with the previous cashier’s departure to consume sustenance leaves no evidence of my innocence. I must flee.

During the ensuing chase the miracle of fate appears to intercede in my favour. As the security guards continue their pursuit of me their paths become intertwined with a man.  Due to an apparent aversion to the utilisation of shaving equipment, I experience difficulty in deciphering this man’s age. It is both unfair and unsafe to make assumptions. However, I believe this man may be lacking in a residence. The abundant facial hair, garments from which the colours appear to have faded to some extent and the decision to be accompanied by a trolley are strong signifiers of the theory. I observe the incident from a hiding place. One that I will not reveal the location or nature of for fear of defeating the purpose connected with the term “hiding place”.

I can only assume the possibly homeless man believes the security guards are in pursuit of him. The reasons for this belief are like the man’s age, difficult to decipher as the man has committed no act to oppose themselves or their occupation.  However in reaction to their approach the man swiftly and gracefully removes a canister of deodorant (an item I would, perhaps judgmentally on my part, seldom associate a man of this appearance with). The man sprays what remains of the canister’s contents into the eyes of one of my pursuers (who he believes to be one of his pursuers). Following this action is one equally as mesmerising to observe. He viciously pulls from his right hand side, the trolley I have previously mentioned in this volume. Clutching onto the holes protruding from the body of the item, he viciously forces the contraption into the direction of the second security guard. Following this action, he simply flees with a speed that I am unable to calculate. It appears at one point as though his legs are operating as a separate entity from the rest of his person. No doubt a captivating sight, but one I am given a limited measurement of time over which to muse. Viewing my assailants in the poor condition in which the man has decided to leave them awakens particular degrees of guilt within me. Though, alas arriving to their aid would be ultimately detrimental for myself, bearing in mind they still believe me to be a thief.

            In the unexpected events that have passed, the soiree that was a predominant factor in my schedule was temporarily omitted from my minds focus. I am still able to attend this party as if the hosts schedule has been adhered to, the festivities have not yet commenced.

I am experiencing discomfort at the prospect of roaming the streets equipped with both a backpack and a bowler hat. I will inevitably fall victim to judgmental gazes from strangers – particularly when wearing a hat that is far from suited to the tone of this climate. However this leads me to question whether indeed any climate would require an accessory such as the one I am currently sporting.  However the United Kingdom is all but famed for the changeable nature of its climate. So to provide you, gentles, with a reminder of the event that has passed since the departure from my habitat I have:

•           Been made to wrestle with undesirable allergies

•           Made a detour to a local establishment

•           Been accused of stealing an item I purchased numerous months prior to today

•           Chased by an athletic duo of security guards

•           Witnessed a misunderstanding causing a potentially homeless man to assault said security guards.

And still the gathering is yet to begin. Predictably, when I arrive the events of the gathering will not merit any form of report. Having uttered these claims I do not believe that any events that have passed thus far to be admirable in any way and I did not receive any degree of enjoyment. At times like these I would be expected to accentuate any positive factors of the situation. So in order to do this I shall speak the phrase “It could be worse, it could be raining”. This phrase as it happened, was one that was ultimately unnecessarily spoken, as immediately after this sentence was delivered, the rain delivered itself. I lift my head to  reach a certain calculated angle, however not so far up that my neck will suffer from the position. And I utter as I stand amid the opaque strands that in time may threaten with pneumonia and I exclaim

“Well, when your presence is an urgency and the progression of the orchids I had devoted time to growing depend on it, you are nowhere to be seen .BUT when I am outside and have already suffered from my experiments with spontaneity you deem it appropriate to make an appearance. The punctuality affiliated with you cannot be viewed as convenient, sir!”

I face difficulty in coming to terms with the syllables I have uttered. I actually referred to the rain, an element, as sir? Oh Darren Hutton, it is best to hold your tongue. I still have approximately 30 minutes to travel to the soiree but, alas it is an arrival I have decided against. With the weather and the bouts of mild illness progressing any further in my travel will not be a decision from which I can admire my own sensibility. I compose a remorseful text message to the parties host stating the reasons why I will be absent from his festivities. I attempt to be sincere in the development of this message. However it is inevitable that a certain amount of sincerity will be removed when opting to propose a discussion through this medium. My destination has now deviated somewhat: I aim to return home. I begin walking once again. I remove my bowler hat, fearing the previously mentioned glares of judgment. With the efficient amount of intensity these glares have been known to cause physical pain. I have only passed one stranger and since this stranger was carrying a goldfish bowl (I refer to the item as a goldfish bowl though the fish entrapped inside boasts of a more diluted pink shade) , he is no place to judge my somewhat absurdist fashion sense. I pass a bus stop. Stood  there is a girl my own age: an aqqaintance who I recognise, and who, if I turn my head a number of degrees, will no doubt come to recognise me. Encountering a friend while you are yourself alone in the rain wearing a bowler hat and appearing to be aimless in your gait is an encounter that can result in tragic pathos. For this reason I use the bowler hat as means of concealing my identity. I remove the hat from my head and position it in such a way that my facial features are completely obscured. When engineering this manoeuvre (which was not a challenge, I had previously illustrated a graph for a similar situation) it had not occurred to me that concealing your face with a purple spotted bowler hat can only increase the conspicuousness of one’s appearance. Thus my efforts have been in vain. Also due to covering my face I was unable to observe any other obstacles surrounding me and therefore….. OH HEAVENS ABOVE .I could not see how close a passing car was to a puddle on the roadside and I consequently could not see in turn how close, my body was to said puddle. My trousers were officially drenched in what appeared to be sub-zero temperature water. And of all garments my fifth best pleat front coal black Giorgio Armani trousers would be the victims of this puddle. NNNNNNAAAARRRGGGGGHHHH! I bellow incomprehensibly and shake my clenched fist twice, releasing the grasp of my fist after the second shake.  This evidenced itself to be yet another error: as I had forgotten that in the fist I had decided to realise, were my house keys. Further what I had failed to take into account was that I was standing within extremely close proximity of a drain. This truly was the final straw. At this point it may be needless to say I began to quiver with anger (though the temperature of the rain had also played some role in encouraging this quiver). I walk home hanging my head so far to the floor level that one would be forgiven for failure to acknowledge the fact that I even possessed a head.

Though I will at this point be unable to enter my house I still decide to walk in the direction that leads to my settlement. This is a day from which I can draw little or no satisfaction. Some activities I’ve engaged in are:

•           Wrestling with undesirable allergies

•           Made a detour to a local establishment

•           Been accused of stealing an item I purchased numerous months prior to today

•           Chased by an athletic duo of security guards

•           Witnessed a misunderstanding causing a potentially homeless man to assault said security guards.

•           Had to cancel my appearance at a friend’s soiree

•           Avoiding judgment from an acquaintance using desperate measures

•           Played the role of collateral damage between a puddle and a powerful car

•           Misplaced my only means of entering my own home

These are all events that will exercise my patience, sanity and generally well-being for an unspecified period of time. My only comfort is that there is a possibility that in some stage of the future, I will achieve the ability to memorise this day and view all events as trivial and amusing. There is even a chance, gentles that I will one day interpret these experiences as decisive factors in the development of my character. Undeniably I have officially learnt a lesson from this that I was always almost sure of: spontaneity doesn’t always travel far.