The Twisted Logic of a Tea Addicted Lunatic


Here’s the story of the bus, the dentist, and a strong burning sensation.

Am I insane? You know what, don’t answer that. Oh, you already did, didn’t you? You know I’m a man of logic. I live by it. I believe in it. When I do something, I plan it logically, yet to others, this logic often makes me look insane. I’ll give you an example. This week, I had a trip to the dentists. Now, I could’ve walked – it’s about 40 minutes away on foot. Or, I could get the bus, about six minutes away. Using logic, I worked out that it would be cheaper to get the bus than to walk. I would use more energy walking and therefore need a greater amount of food to replenish the lost energy. More food means more money. Whereas if I got the bus, I’d need less food. This plus the bus fare means less money. I can’t find a fault in that logic. Yet I’ve been told this week that this logic is pure insanity. I thought it was rather clever. And look, I’m that unhealthy anyway, that I’m fairly sure a 40 minute walk would finish me. Think of the funeral costs! Yet it was all avoided with a one pound bus ride…

Of course, some would say that it’s pure laziness, but think of the logic! Oh, why won’t you think of the logic! Logic for me is like the island in The Prisoner. You can never leave. I don’t know what the bubble would be in this analogy. Rebellion? Possibly. It is a lot like my brain to come up with something that can be easily defeated with a fork.

Of course, environmentalists will be reading this with a horrified look on their faces. “Oh, you monster! Think of the planet! Why won’t you think of the poor planet!” WHY WON’T YOU THINK OF MY BLOODY LOGIC! No, you know what, screw the environmentalists. I’ll use another piece of logic to prove why.

That bus was always going to run. Regardless of my being on it, it was always due to run. At that time, on that road, with that driver, using X amount of fossil fuel. By not being on it, I would not have changed that course of events, see? I did not harm the environment, the bus company did. I am using a service. It’s like a burst fire hydrant on a hot day. If I decide to dance about under the jet of water completely naked, I should not be the one who is judged and punished. The water company should be! They’re the instigator, here. I’m just utilising the opportunity to cool the fudge down.

Now, ultra-environmentalists will start harping on about weight. “Oh, but less weight means less fuel to push the bus along, thus saving the environment.” No. No, no, no. I, just – no. I’m lighter than a feather. I had no significant impact on the weight of the bus. Plus, the windows were open, the air con was on, and the gearbox was knackered (by the sounds of it), meaning the driver was driving everywhere in third or even second gear, which has a bad impact on the fuel economy. Again, the fault of the bus company.

Hey, I have done by bit for the environment this week. I put some gubbins in the recycle bin and put it out for collection. There you go. Are you happy now, hippies? I even washed out several tins and cartons so they could go in the recycle bin. That took a whole 10 minutes. Think of the things I could’ve been doing in that time, instead. Like, erm, you know. Stuff.

I was a bit on edge about going to the dentist. I’m not normally, though. I love my dentist. I’ve seen the same dentist for over 20 years, now. I was having a difficult day. I’d already burned myself on the oven. Twice. I have a big red line on one side of my thumb and an even bigger one on the other side, plus down the underside of my fingers. My nerves were frayed after that accident. Well, I say ‘accident’. I took an empty oven tray out of the oven halfway through cooking something else in there, and then I forgot I’d took it out of the oven when, three minutes later, I picked it up. Barehanded. Yes. That did hurt a bit. Hey, the oven was at 180 degrees. I’m just glad I still have fingers…

It didn’t help that the older people on the bus weren’t saying nice things about me. You know what I mean, when they whisper and murmur. After a cursory glance in their direction, you know they’re talking about you. “Oh my God, he just got on the bus.” “Look how young he is.” “Lazy, these days, aren’t they?” THINK ABOUT THE LOGIC! Not very nice, is it? In all seriousness, I have a very bad knee and I can’t walk very far before it starts acting up. Plus, there’s my logic. You can’t forget my precious, precious logic. Think of the logic!

You know, older people complain about youngsters having no respect for their elders, these days. Trust me, it’s just as true the other way round. Why can’t we all just get along?

As a shy person, the dentist is a strange place. You feel pressured and scared. You have forms to fill out and a room full of people. All staring at you because you’re the newest person in the room. Inevitably, I did get some information wrong. But then again, my left hand was shaking pretty badly after the burning incident and I am left handed. I was feeling a bit sick, as well. I always do after I burn myself. Oh yes, it’s happened before. Plenty of times…

But I did feel comforted by seeing my old friend, the dentist. He’s such a lovely guy, and after seeing him for so long, the fear of going to that place evaporates. Then again, a good old fashioned tooth scraping does hurt a tad. At least it took the pain away from my hand. Temporarily. Have you ever had a tooth scraping? Imagine a really sharp pointy metal thing that the dentist digs into the gums, the gaps, and then over the teeth, like fingernails on a chalkboard. It’s lovely. And by that, I mean, terrifying.

It’s not that I don’t clean my teeth, it’s that they are stained. Slightly. Just a little bit. It’s because I drink too much tea, which won’t help with the stereotypical image the Americans have of the English loving their tea. Is the tooth scraping every six months worth six months of binge tea drinking? Well, duh. Obviously. This is Yorkshire. We’ll do anything for a cup of tea…

I didn’t look great coming out. There was a teenage girl getting ready to go in after me. I’d overheard some of a conversation she had with her granddad before I went in.

“Oh, I’m so scared. Will you come in with me, granddad? I don’t want to go in alone.”

Bless her. I imagine the sight of me, bloodied, hand shaking and walking funny because I wasn’t wearing my glasses (I really can’t see without them), didn’t help settle that young woman’s nerves…

I did have to spit several times when I got outside. My mouth was full of blood. There is a church opposite. I’m glad a priest didn’t see me spitting blood everywhere.

“Oh, you poor thing. Would you like to come inside?”

“Oh, no. I’m fine.”

“Ah, come on now. A nice warm cup of tea will do you the world of good.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly – a cup of tea? Ah, well, now you mention it…”

I had to go to the shops the following day, too. Shy people don’t like that sort of environment. We feel very claustrophobic. It feels like everyone is staring at you. We feel so out of place and uncomfortable, everyone probably is staring at us. We just run in, grab as much as we can, and get out as quickly as possible. It’s like Supermarket Sweep.

The worst part is the tills. Because you have a queue of people behind you, whilst you are trying desperately to pack your bags as quickly as possible. Because there’s an angry queue of people being held up.


All this did happen to me. Inevitably. I just couldn’t open the bag. It was really fiddly. And I could see the angry queue getting annoyed with me. And the checkout guy on the till was holding out my change whilst sighing rather loudly. And there I was, whimpering, throwing food into a bag willy-nilly. I tell you, the British are an impatient bunch of bastards, some days.

Never go shopping alone, is my advice.

Yes, I’ve arrived at the end of my two weeks alone. By the next post, my parents will be back and the disorder and anarchy that has enveloped my life over the last two weeks will have returned to normal.

Thank heavens for that, eh?

Now, if you don’t mind, I’m off to have my sixth cup of tea of the day…

English writer, mathematician, logician, Anglican deacon and photographer, Charles ‘Lewis Carroll’ Dodgson (1832-1898), once wrote: ‘”Contrariwise,” continued Tweedledee, “if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn’t, it ain’t. That’s logic.”’

Peace Out :|:

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To Contrive & Jive
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