Quelle Disaster!

Thomas Clark

2001

Cast your mind back to the University of Glasgow, summer, 2001; or, as you most likely weren't there, let me fill you in. It was gloriously sunny, warmer still in the Philosophy department right down at the far end of the campus, where the thick windows looked out onto the myriad-bookstored roads which led to Kelvingrove. But I, unlike you, was there, in one of the seminar rooms, tilted casually back onto two legs of my chair in what may or may not have been an ultimately vain attempt to look cool; an attempt to look cool which was inspired by the enormously serendipitous stroke of being assigned for my presentation partner the incredibly yummy, tastefully eye-shadowed girl from my Hegel class who never seemed to speak to anyone and who, sitting across from me here, I was now discovering was sweet and shy and self-conscious rather than aloof. The summer seemed likely to stretch off as far as the roof-topped horizon, and just as prettily. Discoursing upon something or other very clever and erudite, the buzz of a seasonal wasp nearly made me lose my balance, cool, train of thought, hopes of yummy, eye-shadowed making-out on the soft couches of tiny cafes. Trying not to even dignify the distraction with a glance, I lazily flicked out the Coke bottle in my right hand, contents long since devoured by dehydrating warmth, in what I took to be its general direction.

The tiny plastic 'Thwock!' was solid and satisfying in even the still and sticky air, the little black dot arrowing with dip straight into the pastel green bin. I knew enough about girls to resist my reactive instincts, which were to jump from my falling seat with my arms aloft and a scream of 'SCORE! Did you see that?! Did you see that?! That was sweet!' Instead, all that passed to indicate my emotional inner tumult was the clatter of my chair's front legs to the floor and the birth, like a cosmos, of an immutable smile of surprised joy on my face. No, of course girls don't find these things as impressive as boys do, best to underplay the whole thing really, but still, it was, as per my initial reaction (which I had had no reason to revise), pretty bloody sweet, anyone could see that. ... (continues)