Teenage Kicks

Seen as Georgi wrote one on this, I might as well too, seen as she thinks mine will be better. We’ll see.

How do normal teenagers get their kicks? Sports, games consoles and vandalism are a few that might spring to mind. Not me. Although I don’t suspect I’m classed as your “average” teenager. I mean, I might look relatively “normal”, but you know what they say about the book and all that. Let’s take a look shall we:

Case study numero uno: shoe stealing.
As I’ve already mentioned, we’re allowed to sit on a patch the school field at luch time, now that it’s “summer” term. So usually I’ll be with Kim, Georgi (no longer, she’s supposed to have left), Connor, Erin etc, and almost always end up in a spot near to this lovely couple [*cackles*]. Come to think of it, the girl’s mum used to teach me when I was at primary school (Christ, that’s a whole blog in itself, Primary school). Anyway, we’ve had notices in the registers telling couples not to show their love for each other so “passionately”, or words to that effect (i.e. STOP SNOGGING EACH OTHERS FACES OFF!!!). So of course these two, in the year below us, continue with their passion on the school field, amidst their friends so they don’t get spotted. Now the other week, I noticed that her shoes were off her feet. Que wierd mind.
“Wouldn’t it be great if I stole her shoes whilst they were romancing and they’ll get all worried at the end of lunch when they’re gone”, was the kind of thought that appeared in my mind. So whilst they were *ahem* on top of each other, I stole the shoes, and they didn’t realise they were gone ’till the end of lunch time. They got annoyed and I threw them back, when they were turned around, so they got hit in the head. Ha!
Now I was hooked. I needed my fix again.
So I was on the field with a slightly bigger group, and an opportunity arose. She had gone off to talk to someone, without her shoes. So I waited until the boyfriend had turned around, so I could make my move. I ran, I grabbed the shoes, I was just leaving when… he turned around and saw me! “No! I’ve been rumbled!” I thought to myself, but I ran back to my group nevertheless. Ooh! So, being the valiant and brave [*sniggers*] boyfriend, he came over with a mate to get her shoes back. Bless. I had them under my leg at this point:
BF- “Can I have those shoes back?” (no please ¬¬)
Me- “What shoes?”
BF- “Those shoes that are by your groin, ya prick!” (Ooh! I thought)
Me- “Oh! Those shoes.” (Throws shoes at BF)
*BF walks off*
BF – “And get a haircut [*mumbles*]” (That’s it! I thought)
Me- “You can talk” (then, at top of voice) “TOSSER!!!” (which caused half the people on the field to look at me, then him).
This was war. I needed those shoes again, just to spite them.
Every dog had its day, and the next one was MINE.
Now, the couple saw me come onto the field, so were a bit wary. But of course they were on top of each other soon enough. My chance came, I snook over (quite stealthily, I might add) and took the shoes that once again were not on her feet. Some people never learn. I kept them for the rest of lunch and put them back on her feet when the bell went, only to get glares as I walked off.

Wierd enough for you? Well here’s some more.

Case study numero dos: road signs.
After recitals, Georgi and I were often quite happy to sit by the bus stop, waving at random motorists to see if they wave back. But after a while, like rats on THC (see last blog), this didn’t give us our full fix. So we’ve written “HONK! 4 CHEESE” on a piece of A3 paper, and have since had barrels of fun.
Last night was no exception, and we were helped by traffic lights (apparently they’re fixing something outside the pub), meaning people had to slow down or even stop to read our sign. To start with, chavs were on our bench, so we of course stood opposite the traffic lights, right were people stopped. We got a fair few honks and puzzled looks, and even some adoring fans in the form of red Land Rover people. When we did move back to our bench (a couple of hundred yards away), people started to wave at us. No. Since when does wave look like honk? 
We need a bigger sheet, maybe even A1, if I can get my mitts on one. And we should try rush hour, when there are queues of people.
Then there will be no excuse for waving.

Case study numero tres: hide and seek.
Is it not slightly worrying that I still enjoy this? And (without sounding too cocky here) I’m not too bad at it, considdering I’m over 6′2″ in hight. I mean, I managed to be the last person found when playing in the Wilson’s back garden, by moving furniture and then curling up into a ball behind the end of a sofa in their Wendy House (no father Wilson, it is not a ‘Ponder Shed’, or whatever you called it). It was so good that the seeker even came to the door of the Wendy House and said “Nah, he won’t be in here, he’s too big to fit”. How wrong she was. 

I’m sure I could add more case studies, but I think y’all get the picture.

Now I must go and finish my English media essay, which I’ve been given an extension on. Comparing Sue Barker and Anne Robinson is great fun, really great fun.