Dougie Brimson. Author, screenwriter, serial moaner.
It’s not that I don’t like people, I really do. It’s just that far too many of them seem to do or say things which annoy me. Admittedly most probably don’t set out with the intention of winding me up me personally but that doesn’t excuse it. Indeed if anything, it actually makes it even worse because if they’re unwittingly annoying me then chances are they are unwittingly annoying lots of other people as well. Thus, they are clearly either stupid or worse, ignorant. And why should I or anyone else put up with that?
The problem for me of course, is that if I take the trouble to point out to a woman the simple fact that when I go into Starbucks for some peace and quiet, I do not expect nor want it to be disturbed by her screaming brat, I’m the one perceived to be in the wrong! How does that work? Surely it’s only by pointing out the error of people’s ways that they will ever remedy their social inadequacies!
Similarly, whenever I’m out and about with someone, I have a habit of commenting on what people are wearing –and yes, I am aware of the irony in that statement! Mostly, this is for my own amusement but I do wonder why it isn’t socially acceptable to walk up to someone and point out that they look a mess or that they would be better served either dressing to suit their age or simply stopping at home. After all, would it not be better to know? And if someone like me, who’s getting on a bit and has seen a bit of life can’t tell them, who can?
To be perfectly honest, the older I get the more difficult it is to keep silent and things become even harder when I am directly involved because adding the element of ‘personal’ into the equation takes it into a whole new dimension. Largely because there are certain things which drive me up the fucking wall –ignorance, rudeness, simple lack of manners and arrogance being the big hitters- and I do seem to encounter them a lot these days. As a consequence, there have inevitably been the odd occasions where keeping my own counsel has not been an option. For example, my one and only visit to the Cannes Film Festival resulted in my throwing some smug little shit into a swimming pool because he had clearly only crawled out of his own arse long enough to be incredibly patronising to both me and the people I was with.
Now reading this might well give the impression that I am one of those loud brash people who think nothing of gobbing off to all and sundry about anything and everything and it’s fair to say that whenever I meet people who know something of my background, that’s kind of how they expect me to be. Sometimes, I do actually step up and play that particular game although more often than not, it is for my own entertainment.
However, for the most part the truth is actually quite different because in the flesh I am actually quite a shy soul. That’s why whenever I am introduced to new people I never like to be introduced as a writer unless it is directly relevant. Not because I am embarrassed about it, but because I actually don’t like talking about myself or my work that much. I’m far happier sitting in the background observing as opposed to indulging in the loathsome activity of small talk. Something I am incredibly bad at.
Then again, writing this down has given me food for thought. After all, ever since I’ve been writing people have been happy to take any opportunity to comment on pretty much every aspect of my life and there are plenty of people making a very good living out of stating the obvious or merely moaning for the sake of it. So maybe there is something to be said for a bit of reciprocation. I do after all have a degree of what called be called ‘a profile’ or even ‘fame’ so telling it as I see it could be just the USP I’ve been looking for!
After all, it doesn’t take a genius to understand that if everyone was more like me, this world would be a far happier place.
Surely that stands to reason doesn’t it?