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The Visitor |
Proud Americans Pt. I: Ted
Throughout my first year and third year in Uni, there was always an American buddy or two. See, in City University, there are American exchange students who come in for about a year, get to know how the Brits do it and enjoy the fact that it's completely legal to purchase alcohol at a bar at the age of 18. There're a couple of Yanks that I had the pleasure (or in some cases, displeasure, of meeting) and here's one of them: TED.
Ted believed in Chaos. He believed in Chaos theory and that everything, when viewed in the right way, was chaotic. There's no order, just chaos. And one look into Ted's bedroom would make you believe this was true.
Ted's room was so messy he actually received a letter from the halls of residence telling him that his room was so fucked that the cleaning lady couldn't come in to clean it, and if he didn't do something about it, he'd be expelled.
When I went into his room, I found hardly any trace of carpet. To get to the bed, you had to grab the chair nearest the door, place it in the correct strategic position and jump from the entrance to the chair, then to the bed.
His ashtray at his workdesk was a drawer. His ashtray by his bed was the floor, a mound of black and grey ash that looked like Wile E Coyote had just been blown up. His clothes were scattered amongst his books, which were scattered amidst his papers, which were scattered amongst the empty beer cans and month old macaronni n cheese.
And somehow, he knew where everything was. He would stick his hand in what seemed like a random place and pull out exactly what he needed, be it a lighter, a can of beer or a thesis on Socrates.
Ted was also unable to say the word 'bollocks' in the proper way. I actually have video footage of Ted attempting this, which is absolutely hillarious.
"Boo-lox"
"No, Ted, more emotion, like you mean it."
"BOOOOO-LOX!!!"
"Erm, it's bollocks, Ted, not boolox. Try it like this: ball-ox."
"Balloookks!!!!"
"...ok."
Ted was a pretty cool guy.
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