Thursday, 8 December 2011

You're from WHERE?

Good day readers. I have recently returned from 4 days of interviews at Oxford University. I know, I thought I was too thick as well! Before I embark on this blog, I should say that I did come across some thoroughly wonderful people, who were nothing but friendly and warm, not to mention ludicrously intelligent.
I went with the expectation of meeting a group of Etonians and Harrowians (what actually is the term for them?), gilet wearing, Bullingdon Club members, do-you-know-who-my-father-is, Tory voting hooray Henrys. And whilst such people were in the minority, they were present.
I think what I shall do is a series of posts examining, in minute detail, as I tend to, the more quirky experiences, but this first one will be a tribute to the plot and sub-plot of a standard conversation.

Right, so the big writing is the actual utterance, and the little writing is the meaning behind it.

Person A: Hi there. What are you applying for?
I am now asserting my superiority over you by ensuring that I am the one who is brave enough to start conversation. Whilst I respect you sufficiently to acknowledge your existence, I consider myself superior enough to address you in this overbearing manner. However, you do look rather intelligent, so please don't be applying for my course.
Person B: Oh hi. I'm applying for PPE. How about you?
My use of Oh hi shows your talking to me is an inconvenience. I want you to go away, but I will do the decent thing and reply. I wonder if you know what PPE actually stands for. If not, you are stupid. I pause between PPE and How about you to make clear that I am not remotely interested, I just know the formula of conversation.
Person A: Geography
Phew! And I do a proper subject with a proper name. Onus now on you to extend this conversation or appear rude.
Person B: Oh wow, how interesting. Whereabouts are you from?
That is not interesting, and I have nothing to ask about your subject. I don't care where you're from, but I hope its a Labour seat so I know I am richer than you.
A: Preston. Yourself?
Oh no, he's played his trump card there. I will never be able to save face. I must get out of this conversation at once.
B: How lovely. I'm from Tunbridge Wells
Wonderful, I am better than you after all! I bet you go to a Comprehensive school and live in a slum and eat baked beans out of a trough with the rest of your disgusting family, garnished with a couple of dead dogs, on your hands and knees surrounded by vomit and flies in a slum. I, however, am 78th in line to the throne.
A:I went on holiday there once
I'm not a complete sad case! Honest!
B: Oh...
I knew we should have tightened border control. Keep the riff raff out.
B: Well I'd better be off now, see you soon. Good luck with your interviews
I need to go before I lose my hygiene by osmosis. I hope your interviews are a disaster and I never see you again.

I will once more stress that I was engaged in no conversation with a sub-plot even remotely similar to this one. Both the candidates I met and the undergraduate helpers were wonderfully kind, friendly and welcoming. But the imagination does wonder, doesn't it...

No comments:

Post a Comment