Charlie Booker runs a satirical TV program, where he does what we’d all like to do: sit on his sofa (more recently at a Newsroom desk), shouting sharp-tongued, true but often not entirely political correct commentary of all things life â€“ at least as far as those were covered by last week’s media.
I have my very own Charlie Booker moments all the time, every day.
Just envision that American well-to-do late in her 70s, silver hair with perm, and two white poodles with differently coloured ribbon on a leash, crossing the street in front of my car. Someone should have run over these poodles (but I didn’t dare to do it).
Or, envision this hand-holding young couple entering the restaurant. She’s pretty, pretty petite, and very well groomed and dressed. He’s overweight, oversized, in a worn-out track-suit. He looks as if his best part was his 130″ plasma TV with quadruple surround. Have you no self-respect, I want â€“but don’t dare- to ask.
Or, envision this oblivious American highway commuter, iPod in one ear, cell phone in the other, and a mind that focuses on constant speed at 65 miles per hour, and doesn’t know the word consideration. No, I want to shout at him, you’re not getting into my lane if you just pull over without looking, slowing down or accelerating. Of course, I end up being the one to give way.
Or, envision the religiously enthused gentleman at the corner, shouting messages of doom at the top of his voice. I know you, I’d wanted to say, you’re the jerk at the corner who shouts nonsense.
Election night in the UK adds more abuse targets to the list.
Like, those people who have nothing better to do than go to the polling station within the last opening hour, and then complain that they can’t vote before closing time because so many other people had the same stupid idea.
Or, the media at large, who absolutely must declare the outcome of the election in the minute the polling stations close. What’s wrong with waiting another 12 hours, and then talking about the real result rather than speculating?
The list is endless, and I can be quite offensive inside my little head. In life, I hope to come across as a friendly but harmless fool.