A few random things I really don’t understand the point in …

• Doing things a certain way because you are meant to do them in that way

This drives me to distraction. Why would you have to do something because someone else tells you it’s a good idea? And since when is there a particular, mutually agreed way of, say, using a knife and fork? Where does all this ‘etiquette’ come from? Who told men to hold open doors and help ladies into cars? I can see the point if there’s health and safety reasons that make sense behind those mindboggling theories, but if there isn’t? Why bother with all these unwritten rules? And only because you always hold the knife and fork ‘the wrong way round’ when you’re cutting food, why would this make you any worse or better than the next person on the table? And what if you speak with your mouth full? It’s like people never left school. Not that I took much notice of instructions at school either. I have very vivid memories of PE lessons where they tried to make me jump off a rather high rope. I mean, why jump when you can just climb down? What is the point in plunging down onto a gym mat when you can just ease yourself off that goddamn rope? ‘But you must jump!’. ‘Make me!’. ‘Alright, we’ll ask for your parents to come in!’. ‘You do that. But how will this make me jump?’. ‘Right, detention!’. ‘Yes, but I’m still not jumping. What are you going to do, drag me? I don’t think so!’ … and clambered my way down the rope again. Similar things happened with any kind of team sport. What good does it do to be on the ‘winning team’? What losers invent these things? ‘Yeah, the group of people in the blue tabards … if they get this ball into the basket more often than the group in the yellow tabards, the blue tabards shall be the winners’. Why? All this does is make the yellow tabard people feel bad, because they’ve been indoctrinated with the idea that those with less balls in the basket shall be known as losers from then on.

• Having a dog you don’t have time for

Now I’m not big on dogs and I certainly would never get one of these little critters, simply because the beautiful cat is vastly superior to your average, dumb canine companion. Dogs are addicted to company. They’re addicted to commands. They’re addicted to people telling them what to do. They love nothing better than a human strapping a leash on them and taking them for a walk. So why would you want to get a dog if you work full-time and can only really feed his addictions at the weekend? You might drag it round the block before work, maybe you even have a dogwalker visit the thing at lunchtime. You get back after work, if you feel like it, you drag doggie round the block again. In the long hours between you going to work, the dog walker arriving and you getting back from work, doggie is on cold turkey. And may compensate by howling, tearing your house apart, crapping into flowerpots and developing some rather interesting behavioural defects. If you can’t provide the entertainment (either someone is in all day or the dog has a job, is outside and/or has another dog for company), for heaven’s sake, don’t get a dog.

• Pushing people onto the bus

We’ve all been there. See bus. Arm out. Bus stops. Door opens. Bus is empty and about 3 people should like to get on it. In theory, there should be no reason for commotion, for it is obvious that all three of you will comfortably fit onto the vehicle. There is no problem. Now try explaining that to the woman behind you who is merrily jabbing you in the back with her pointy Louis Vuitton armpit-baguette of a handbag. On second thoughts, don’t try to explain that to her, for she’ll just call you a bitch, before turning round to other passengers, in desperate need of an audience for her clumsy bunfight. Instead, stop dead. This will make her jab you harder with her bag, to the point where everyone else notices that she is indeed attacking you in an unprovoked fashion, which will make her look bad and, if you time it right, in the meantime you’ll look like a patient saint.

• Limping teenagers

There does not appear to be any medical reason behind their swagger and they’re everywhere. Bus stop. Highstreet. Any mobile phone shop. Schools. The tube. Trousers miraculously fixed onto their little kneecaps. Failing that, there is the ‘stiff arm hand clamp’, whereby the youngster clutches his leg with a strangely immobile wrist at all times. Even when they’re running. Maybe I’m missing something, but I just don’t get it. Why would you incapacitate yourself in such a fashion, look ridiculous and severely infringe on your walking skills? Now I know that 50 Cent got shot in the leg or something, and the idea of some sort of tribute to this incident may be appealing, but … honestly, you don’t all need to do it. You will never meet Fiddy. He will never appear randomly on your high street going ‘Yo! You with the limp! Cool! Dude!’. It’s just not going to happen. So will you please limp the hell out of my way?

• Ironing

This is the 21s century. Most people wear T-shirts and jeans. Most shirts seem to be self-ironing. Why bother? It’s a blatant waste of time and energy. Just think of all the exciting things you could be doing instead of standing there trying to clamp down on this unruly tennis sock. ‘Ah but I must look dapper in the workplace!’, I hear you cry. Well, I got news for you sunshine. Nobody is ever going to notice whether you have that all important karate crease going down your trouserleg or not. Nobody will ever notice that you may have slept in that very shirt you’re now wearing in the Monday morning meeting. Clothes sort themselves out, so stop interfering with mother polyester and father cotton. You are wasting your time.

• Folk hanging on to their respected other halves in public places

It’s a sad state of affairs when you think your other half is going to run off at any moment, so you have the irresistible urge to hang on to their knee/arm/neck down the pub. Trust me, if they even like you just a little bit, they’re unlikely to do so. You do not need to hamper their every move. Worst I’ve seen was some poor girl trying to take a sip from her glass, and this bloke was still hanging onto her elbow. Then there is the even more saddening aspect of one half (usually the male) ensuring everyone else in the place knows that this specimen of lady is his. Next time you’re down the pub, watch a random couple. The moment a group of males walks through the door, the boyfriend will immediately grab the nearest limb of his respective girlfriend, because, heck, those blokes just need to know he pulled. It’s almost like fire hasn’t been invented just yet and people revert to these cavemanesque rituals to preserve the species. Remember, these are modern times, nobody is anyone’s ‘property’. Mind you, holding hands in a situation that does not involve sitting down at a table is acceptable, because there is the argument one person might actually lose the other in the event of a sudden stampede of pedestrians. And it keeps your hands warm I suppose (at least one of them).

• Maintaining the myth that girls all go to the loo together so they can bitch about people

Maybe I am actually a descendent from another galaxy, but this does not happen. Not in my world, anyway. Toilets are not usually nice places to be in, so what would be the point in a whole bunch of you crowding in front of the sinks to express your views on society or the pub or club you happen to be in at the time? So let me clear this up once and for all. This is what really happens:

Group of people is in a pub or club or at a gig, a bar even. One of you needs the loo. This may remind another person that they also happen to be in need of a visit to the ladies. So you get up and make your way to the facilities. One of you might hold the door open for the one behind. You make your way into separate cubicles and go about your business. There might be a cry of ‘oh! Dammit! Er, anyone got any looroll they could pass over the door?’. Then you go wash your hands. You might say something along the lines of ‘ah this hand dryer is very loud isn’t it?’ or ‘yes, I believe this cubicle to be vacant!’ or ‘was yours flushing okay?’. And that is about it. We’re not at a high school prom. Neither are we attending some kind of key swapping party. Nor do we actually have the urge to re-paint our faces in a toilet. Nobody would know the difference, anyway. And if they did, chances are you’re pissed and took a leaf out of the Clown School Of Makeup by accident. I should also like to take this opportunity to speak for all those people who happen to have a fast metabolism and drink runs through them like they’re one of those babydolls. There is nothing wrong with us. And yes, when we say we need to go to the loo, chances are we really do need to go to the loo. And if we’ve been 10 minutes earlier, so be it. Some people are just like that.