RSLJ Article 13: The closer you get to the truth, the further you are from it…

This has bugged me for a rather long time and I have battled to find the trigger to make me journal it. This photo is of a wall in a tunnel walkway on campus. It was my trigger, since I bet a Kevin wrote it. In an attempt to appease my irritation I am going to share it with you, if you weren’t aware of it already, just so I don’t suffer alone…

I hate informal 'get togethers ’ where everyone congregates at the house of the guy in the extended social circle that has the biggest flat screen, the best pool cricket pitch, the nicest braai, the prettiest sister or just the biggest tolerance for people messing T-sauce and miller on his carpet.

I hate these social events as you are forced to meet people you really would NOT like to meet, and worse than that you have to portray a modicum of civility in interacting with them, since they must be someones friend right? It’s like traveling long distance on a flight path that includes 2 or 3 changeovers.

The guy in the ‘No one knows I am a lesbian shirt!” (they do now asshole) behind you in the queue at Cape Town, probably sat across the aisle from you on the flight to O Thambo, and then was in front of you in the boarding queue, the aisle ahead of you on the 12 hour flight to Hong Kong, also ordered a Double Whopper while you passed the 3hour delay in China, and god forbid sat next to you on the CX connection to Don Muang.

Thankfully it isn’t rude to pretend to sleep when this guy gives you the ‘hey I’ve seen you every hour of the last 20 and I want to share life stories’ look just when the airhostess delivers the fried pork and rice but you don’t have that luxury when the guy you just met at the braai comes over for a quick chat.

I am referring broadly here to a guy when I should actually be doing so to a specific type of guy. It is complex to define him except through the use of this reduction test. If, every person present upon meeting the guy, immediately wonders ‘who invited this clown?’ he is one of these guys! Let’s call him Kevin, and I’ll explain why I hate him…

Kev is basically the reason St Andrews boys started baiting! You see Kev didn’t fit into any of the crudely defined ‘cool’ categories at school. He didn’t achieve in anything so didn’t command respect. He didn’t have any glaring deficiencies though so wasn’t ostracized either. He was just average.

Of course mediocrity is worse than red hair so K-meister had to earnestly elevate his status! How he planned to do so? Get as close to the action as possible, and in doing so got further and further away…

K-dawgs strategy to be accepted as a cool guy in ‘the group’ is one of mind-boggling social interest and because he has done no act that is even remotely interesting, he finds the need to talk his way in. Problem is, he is lying to himself…

Hence K-force talks about his achievements in topics he thinks will make him sound cool and hey presto you have a quote machine. However, a really experienced Kevin has been trying (obviously to no avail) to achieve success in this manner for ages, so has made impressive advancements in the technique.

The ultimate skill in K-bragging? “I haven’t just heard that story, I was actually there!” In ethnic groups where oral history is an important social tool, the elders were always held in high esteem because since they had the knowledge they had the power. Hence, information is power, so when someone shares an impressive story to a group of guys he gets acknowledged as the omnipotent story teller.

Devious little K-fist cottoned onto this idea and developed a way to usurp the story teller and get in on the power. He would one better the omnipotent story teller by claiming he was actually there and experience the story first hand. The one thing cooler than front row tickets? Been on the field!

So Matt tells the story about how Roy got so boozed at Tiger on Tuesday night, he passed out in the bathroom, and got swept out by the cleaning lady at 6am the next morning and then walked six miles to make the 8am accounting lecture in Beattie! Despite Roy admitting it ‘wasn’t his best’ this behaviour is immortalized by the minnows that fringe around the periphery of ‘the group’ like pilot fish on a shark.


So when this story is recounted at the chicken burger stand at lunch, at Forries that night, at the braai on sat and at such events for time to come the K-claimers of the world add in comments like these: (the further down the list you go the more experienced the Kevin)

K1: That’s so hectic! [emphasis] Roy was buying me drinks at around 11pm, and he was fine.

K2: That’s more than hectic! [hectic and cool seem to be directly proportional] We were hitting strohs hard and I had like four but Roy carried on smashing them…

K3: H-e-c-t-i-c! Myself and Roy bounced a ‘cane and fanta rape’ in the parking lot before he got us in on his guest list… [Its Roy and I you illiterate fuck]

K4: So hectic man! I saw Roy chilling in the men’s room and we laughed for ages. We nearly got into a fight but didn’t… [Yes, K-Y, thinks fighting is as cool as drinking]

K5: Friggan hectic dude! R-dawg and I were ripping up the dance floor when the lights came on, we stole a bottle of jagie from behind the bar, wedgied a bouncer on the way out, got head in the parking lot from an amazing belter then held a jager-bomb party with like 50 chicks in the parking lot with the case of redbull I had in my car. The chicks started stripping and the music was pumping. We told the biatches to duck home cause we didn’t want to waste any more jagie. I was too wasted to drive my cabbie and walked with Roy to campus but I left him on the way and went home cause I only have 3rd on a wed…

K6: That wasn’t Roy, it was me…

You’re an idiot Kevin…

[Incidentally the Roy story was actually a fabrication as he ducked Tiger early to go home and study for accounts so just made up the story to douse the flames of any nerd calling accusations.]