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Growing up

It’s RAG Week. For many of my fellow students, this means a week of heavy smoking, hard drinking, crazy dancing, feeble fighting and futile fucking. Only the geeks, do-gooders and those without friends will still go to their lectures, whilst the majority will spend the day knocking back shots of Jaegermeister at the Student’s Union bar. I have to admit, I’d forgotten what all the fuss was about, being as it is over nine years since my last RAG week. It didn’t take long for someone to remind me:

“WASSSH WAYRRRR YURR FOOCKIN DRIVIN!”, roared a hairy young lad, as he staggered out in front of my car this morning, bag of Dutch Gold in hand.

“Get off the road you fucking clown”, I replied.

“AHH PISSH-OFF! IT’S RAAAAAG WEEEKK YAAA AUL DRY SHITE!”

“…yeah whatever…”

Little bastard got me. His drunken retort may have been close to incoherent, but man it hurt. Probably because it’s true. I’m not as much fun as I used to be. Nine years ago I would have been the one staggering across campus at 10am, with a big bag of cans, looking for a party. I would have been the lad slobbering over some young one on the grass outside the main entrance to the college. I would have been the one destroying my chances of a proper education by skipping class, drinking til it hurt and having unprotected sex with any woman that would have me. In fact, that’s exactly why I’m back here now, finally trying to finish the degree I should have wrapped up six fucking years ago…

In a way, his remark made me realise how much I have changed. Gone are the wild and carefree days that dominated my teens and early twenties. Gone are the drugs and booze that made me so wild in the first place. And gone are the women that opened up to me in my wild drunken and drugged up state (Well, apart form the missus, I haven’t managed to shake her off yet). Over time I swapped drugs for kids and drink for a mortgage, my carefree attitude now firmly buried under the burden of maturity and responsibility.

So In reply to you, hairy guy, I must admit you are right, I am ‘an aul dry shite’. I’m a downtrodden, boring old git who is more interested in getting a degree and good job than getting drunk and a good shag. But you’d better watch out, I’m a moody old bastard too, If you walk out in front of my car tomorrow morning I’ll fucking mow you down, you poxy little cunt.