My Mishmash Diary: Tales From A Young Rupes (Part 4)

MillennialFidget
Sep 9, 2018 · 2 min read

(I think last time we connected I recounted peeing myself in a buggy at the Jorvik Viking Centre, and lulling myself to slumber by weighing up the storyline of EastEnders, which is where you find me now…)

The stage was set. Saturday evening. Dad’s place. The “Who Shot Phil?” discussion episode, with members of the EastEnders cast and TV personalities putting forward their predictions of who had done the deed. Dad wandering behind me swilling a glass of Saint Joseph, bewildered by my love for EastEnders. Persian cat looking up with a smooshed face of simpleton kindness from behind leaves stuck in his face fur. Step-mother prepping a fish kettle’s worth of salmon for a dinner party.

I recused myself from eating the finny friend, preferring the flavors of a Birdseye frozen pie followed by 6-month-old triple berry sorbet, who’s crystal frost twinkled in the freezer. To my right, a glass of flat R White’s Lemonade was leaving a watermark on an art deco side table, its net worth trickling into the low $100’s.

Right, so who fuckin shot him then?

Well, the show was bollocks. I felt dumb and duped. Of course they weren’t gonna reveal who’d shot Phil! The episode with the whodunnit reveal hadn’t happened even yet, that was coming in a few days. This was just a discussion for the sake of it, comparing each characters’ motives, Ian Beale vs Mark Fowler and so on. Still, I kept engaged until the end, carelessly dripping triple berry sorbet onto step-mother’s white sofa. Thankfully, my step-mom was distracted by arriving bouquets attached to sets of blond highlights and wafts of Côtes du Rhône from the wedding crystal.As belly laughs and hearty chatter warmed the kitchen, I decide to retire to my wing/room. My evening had been a washout. I was embarrassed I’d stayed in and recused myself from the baby boomer chin-wag, only for a panel discussion on a soap. There was little else to do to recoup some cheeriness but have another spoon of frosted sorbet, evade the obligatory bath, and sweat out my disappointment in pyjamas and quilts.

Boy was I in a right mood. My bolshiness even clouded the pictures and posters hanging up around my bedroom. I tantrum’d at the pics of Disney characters panic bought at IKEA, and the bulky Gateway 2000 PC taking up floor space between dresser and bed. It was just time to sleep off the average evening. Besides, I was gonna get up around 5:30 anyway, creep downstairs and wait through the TV test card of the girl and the clown for Match of the Day’s morning rerun.

MillennialFidget

Written by

https://millennialfidget.com