posted by admin in Uncategorized
I was once a boy with skin that was relatively soft, for a boy. Then I was thrust into the puberty, which was a bit like a really bad episode of Quantum Leap: I was me one day, and then I awoke in this body that had no place being there. Everything was just a bit out of place. My body had grown in place and not in others, and hair sprouted from places that were not mentioned in the biology books we had read about school. Then I went to school and found that the girls had it even WORSE. Instead of there just being bumps up above there was this sort of lady-like walk, an air of discontent for anyone who had a penis, and this odd thing called SARCASM. Indeed those were a scary few days, and now…Now, just as I get used to this body – it took a few years – I am facing a brand new and equally worrying dilemma: man puberty.
Yes boys and girls, I did say MAN PUBERTY. It’s what happens when you realise that your best days, your teenage days, are so far behind you that you no longer remember them (what I just wrote about took a lot of concentration to imagine, you know). The main thing I hate about man puberty is that the changes happen internally, inside the brain, and you suffer in silence. You start saying grow-up things like “cost effective” at parties where you would have normally sworn or said something teenage and heinous, and you start to look at people who wear trousers under their nipples and say “hang on, that doesn’t look too bad after all, hmm.” (for example, the man at the liverpool airport parking firm, who came out to talk to me about why the barrier wouldn’t open when I arrived at the car-park, even gave me a high five and welcomed me to the high-trouser-wearing club…)
It’s bad news, of course, but at least I am not alone. No, everywhere I look others are facing this terrible period of life. Which helps me deal with it, I suppose.
