Monday, October 22, 2007

Teenage Dirtbag

Teenagers. I hate them. I utterly, honestly, with a passion, downright hate them.

While out searching for a nice birthday card for bestest friend Zannie earlier (she’s 21, happy birthday my dear!), I was forced to pass a group of neanderthal hormonal ‘chicks’ and ‘dudes’ of the spotty adolescent type. This terrifies me. I go out of my way to stay as far away as humanly possibly from teenagers. Always. They are revolting things.

As I approached the motley looking crew (after fearfully and unsuccessfully scanning the area for any other route just to avoid them), I took in the standard adolescent giveaways. Four boys and four girls, acne ridden and decked out in the latest sportswear, the boys were either wearing caps at 90 degree angles to their scalps or had skin-heads. The girls were shamelessly flirting, aided by their tight, tight, low rise jeans and although it’s almost November and we’re in Scotland, they wore no jackets, but short sleeved tops, bare, doughy midriffs and showed off their adolescent, underdeveloped breast buds.

There was a lone girl walking just ahead of me, she was perhaps 18 or 19, and I wondered if her insides were being churned up in the anticipation of passing the minging teens like mine were. As she walked by the group, one of the spotty girls wearing the tightest top and the tightest jeans followed the lone girl a few yards along the road, walking like someone with a serious swagger, in a pure lame attempt, I guess, to imitate the girl.

I groaned inwardly. Does she think that’s funny? Why? It’s not at all funny in the slightest. And more importantly, is she going to do that to me when I pass?

She did not. Luckily. She was too busy cackling loudly with her cronies to pay any attention to me.

In a very roundabout way, my point is…who would be a teenager?!

For me, teenagedom was filled with confusion, despair, anger and desperation. I didn’t have the foggiest idea of who I was, or who I wanted to be. Nevertheless, I thought I was it. I really thought I was an adult and that I knew everything.

I conformed to the standard Weegie teen; I was surly, surly, surly, used the ‘f’ word as frequently as full stops, changed my accent to a strong Glaswegian dialect in order to fit in with the toughies, I never went anywhere alone in fear of being viewed as a Norma-No-Mates, I used a trowel to apply layers and layers of orange make-up (“You could dig a trench with a fingernail with a’ that foundation on!”), and spent as little time with my family as possible. In fact, I was rather angry with my parents, because they were middle-class. I wished they wore Addidas tracksuits and were unemployed and on the dole. It was ridiculous they didn't smoke and drink beer...they were so uncool...I simply had to be adopted. I found it terribly shameful that a man who actually wore a shirt and tie was my father, and the fact my Mum was a teacher lost me any extra credits on the cool scale.

At school, the sexual hormones were flying all over the joint. There was nothing that couldn’t be interpreted as something sexual. “Can I use your pencil?” somehow became “Can I play with your zizi?” and everyday the banana my mum put in my lunch bag was hidden in fear that if I actually ate it in public I’d be laughed at for looking like I was giving it a blow job. Zannie’s egg mayo sandwich was likened to female discharge and she has never eaten mayonnaise since.

Classes would be spent trying desperately to be the loudest, funniest, smart aleck class clown, sitting at the back and taking the total rip out of the poor teacher. The thing was, even if you happened to like the teacher, you would never admit it – never! That would just get you a reputation as a pathetic geek. In French and German classes the dictionaries would be out and dirty words would be learned; the only vocab that stuck in our minds. Notes would be passed around; “Look at Sarah’s shoes – they look like my Gran’s!” and “that bitch Rachel looked at me wrong, I’m gonna pull her up about it”.

And don’t get me started on dating. I mean, Janey Macaroni! You’d never be asked out by the guy himself. Somehow it would get passed around until finally you hear from the guy’s friend’s wee brother’s friend’s sister’s best friend’s dog’s brother that he likes you and wants to meet you in the park at lunchtime for a ‘nip’ or a ‘winch’ (hideous Weegie slang for a passionate kiss). A crowd of you and your girlfriends would head down to the local park where he and his spotty friends would wait. It would then take about half an hour before one of your friends would walk up to one of his friends to initiate something, or you would be pushed through the crowd and, without having ever said a single word to each other, he’d lunge at you with a tongue the size of a spade.


I do love to moan about how old I am now that I’m 21, and I’m no teenager now, and no spring chicken, but really, deep down, secretly, I’m so very glad. Because let’s face it, who wants to be a teenager?!


Despina la la said...

Not me, that's who!
You make a wonderful case for abolishing the years 12 - 17 altogether!
(There's a video on the web of a 16 year old Jez playing the drums, teehee!)
I was very different from most of my contemporaries. I look at them on facebook and they're all the same, I don't think they have grown up at all! And like you, at 22 I find myself a completely different person from who I was then!
Jez and I say if we ever have kids, we'll keep them til they're about 9 and then give them away for 10 years! But, joking aside, we do worry that they'll get picked on just for being, well, different - for having strange names and bohemian parents and no TV and prefering jazz to pop...
Great post honey, you're clearly on top form!

Princesse Ecossaise said...

Yes yes yes what a wonderful idea! I think I, too, shall send my kids away during their teenage years. God, teens are just so unloveable. Eugh I haaaaaate them!

Haha a 16 year old Jez?! I can't picture that! (FP is a drummer too!)Did he look the same? Or was he one of those typical teens? FP had a mushroom haircut and looked quite 1980's. He belonged in a shell suit!

ColbyPants said...

first off, 21 is not old. I wish I was that young and knew what I do now (hell I am not old at 28 1/2 ish).

That said I am ten years removed from high school and the farther I get away from it, the happier I am.


Princesse Ecossaise said...

Agreed, I am four years out of high school and the further away from it I get, the happier I become.

And I know, 21 is young young young! But it's an adult age, (almost) everything is now legal but I am now 'sponsible for things...lots of scary adult things.

Ghosty said...

My dear, this is the best post I have read from you in quite a while. In fact, you share a great many views I held when I was twenty-ish.

The amazing thing is that I thought just as you did. I thought it again when I hit thirty. And, again when I hit forty.

Age 50 is just two years away (ACK! ACK ACK ACK!) and I'm still working out the details of who I am and what I'm to be. The journey is the destination, as they say.

doow said...

It's true that the older you get, the more comfortable with your age and yourself you become. I'm a few years older than you and although I have a slight nagging concern that when I turn 26 in a few weeks I'm going to be "approaching" 30, with no real progress made in some aspects of my life, on the other hand, I'm starting to feel like a grownup at last - and as though others see me that way too.

Daddy Papersurfer said...

I hate you - I'll never be able to eat an egg mayo sandwich again either.
Well, maybe with mustard and cress.

I love rants ...... tee hee.

Eliza said...

me me me me me! i do i do! my boobs used to bounce back up when i took off my bra- my tummy used to look like a tummy not a tyre, my face was smooth and clean not akin to crate paper and my legs were long, thin shapely and sexy- now they seem to have grown something called muscle.

i want to be one!

Princesse Ecossaise said...

Ghosty hooray! Yes, this is the first non health, non update related post I've written in a long time, I'm getting back into the swing of things! And you're 2 years away from 50?! I had no idea! You don't look it! Anyway, act your shoe size not your age, that's what I always say. Although I think in America your shoe sizes are double figures whereas ours are size 4,5,6,7,8...etc which is a nicer age to act, I think. I'm rambling on now.

Doow I totally agree, getting a little older is daunting but lovely because there honesty is something in it that makes you more comfortable about who you are. 26 - you're still a young 'un!

Daddy P I am so very sorry. Maybe you could try putting some food colouring in your mayo? Teeheehee...

Eliza, my darling, you are crazy! Although I think you must have been a very lucky teenager! Mind you, my bum and my boobs certainly have dropped a little since I was 16 so I can see your point! *Sigh* Sod's law eh?!

Getty72 said...

I simply love the way you describe the things you see. I know exactly what you mean about the teenagers - but I think you have captured the moment so well in your words. And the photo of Harry Enfield completey sums up the moment.

The thing that makes me laugh the most is how when under the age of 20 we think that adults are sooooooo boring and old.... yet as soon as we turn 20/21 teenagers become so strange. I am sure that there is some mathematical equation somewhere that calculates exactly at which moment a person goes through the stages of metamorphosis from teenager to adult. Actually it all becomes clear now... yes! The teenage messy room isn't just a messy room - it is actually a cocoon.

Thanks Princesse, you have helped solve one of the mysteries of this world!!!!

Keep Smilin'

Best wishes ~ Graham :)

Princesse Ecossaise said...

Hey Graham I'm so very glad to have aided you in coming to a conclusion over that one! It's funny, and you're right, there is a point where we go from thinking adults are terribly boring and soooo uncool to preferring spending the evening watching reruns of Friends and Cold Feet with a hot chocolate and some nice fluffy slippers. When did I cross that point?! I can't put my finger on it, but I know for certain that I passed it some time ago...

Anonymous said...

Welcome back girl ! Glad to read in the other post that your health is better ;)

I hate teens. Mostly because they remind me of myself a few years ago :D

Heather said...

My teen years were All Angst, All the Time. Also, they involved copious amounts of sex, alcohol and occasional use of recreational drugs.

It's funny. When I was in my early- to mid-20s, I hated the flock of teenagers, too. I think it was because I wasn't enough older than them to stay off their radar. Now I'm 31 (although, everyone says I look 21-25, which could make this whole thing moot) and I feel old enough, finally, to not be of much interest to a gaggle of sixteen-year-olds.

Princesse Ecossaise said...

Salut Zhu!! Maybe the reason I hate teens so much is because they remind me of myself when I was that age too. Especially the flesh-baring loud mouths ... CRINGE!

Heather you might be right about the teen radar. They tend to home in on people around their own age and slighty older. And since I still look like I'm 12 I guess I've no hope!

Deadpoolite said...

For some reason being a teenager feels like a lifetime away. Funny how much a person changes in a decade or so.

It is one confusing time for everyone but there were some good times stashed in there so I am not really banishing it to hell just yet:)

At the other end of the spectrum I will never forget those thuggish fools at Colchester in the one year of my life I spent there. They were just throwing eggs to bicyclists and harassing women and elders. Well I can do all of those things with more finesse and way better than them that is for sure:) (although my "egg aim" is a bit rusty, any volunteers as targets in this blog...?No response...oh come on it will be fun... for me anyway, LOL)

Really good read this one Princess both enjoyable and insightful.

Take care!

Princesse Ecossaise said...

Hola deadpoolite! Well it's true, there were some good times during teenagedom...a few...a rare few...but I always hated the world and felt the world hated me so maybe thats why I hated m adolescent years!

I shan't be volunteering to allow you to throw eggs here! On my 15th birthday I was 'egged' on the way home from school. It STANK man!

Then I washed my hair with hot water and it cooked the egg.

Oh dear oh dear...the memories!

T.D. Newton said...

Augh, I hated being a teenager. And to quote one of my favorite My Chemical Romance songs, "teenagers scare the living shit out of me." I don't like dealing with them because the current generation has ZERO respect for people older than them. It's difficult enough to get their attention but when their mommies and daddies buy them cell phones and they get texting, good luck getting them to do anything else. It's ridiculous how much things have changed in the last 10-15 years.

Princesse Ecossaise said...

Teenqgers scare the living shit out of me too!!!!! What brilliant lyrics, spot on!

Hmmm you seem to have hit the nail on the head, perhaps the fact that they, as a general rule, have no respect for anyone older than them is the reason I avoid them like the plague. Interesting...