My life has been ordained to be a joke. A cosmic comedy.
My head still hurts, but the reason i came to this conclusion was a simple meeting of friends. I smile as soon as i see them huddled in the bunch, blocking the path for everyone else. Before even we have asked how everyone is, we begin arguing about the colour of my nail varnish. We spend a whole 20 minutes arguing about this -they say it is black, but I stand my ground that its dark purple or it just looks black but its not. A few emo jokes are made, before i finally snap out of my denial and admit perhaps it is black with purple tint...One day i might look back at today with a feeling of shock at my trivial waste of 20 minutes.
I know we're supposed to be celebrating an occasion, but i'm just not sure what it is yet. As everyone else knocks back ice cold vodka's, i patiently wait for the news.
It turns out one of my friends- A has been promoted to be an officer or something in the army (or was it the RAF?). The conversation naturally turns to wherever he works, and what his new position includes. Travelling, lots of paperwork, shouting at cadets....the list goes on.
I joke about seeing him in Iraq in the holidays, and he smiles. The smile that tells you there's more to it. It turns out he might be stationed in Iraq for 'a few weeks'. I think I speak first, asking A what his duties will include in Iraq. He jokes that perhaps me and a few of my friends should go with him. Since its going to be an 'experience'. Well at least i think he was joking... until i realised he wasnt. Naturally one of his friends tries to convince me its a good idea to spend a few weeks in a military camp, translating and 'helping'. One of my closer friends shoots a look that tells them they're not thinking right.
The UK has its bases in the south. I've never been to there, and i almost like the idea of this new 'experience' until A opens his mouth.
Their subconversation was about safety, and I hear the sentence of 'i'd shoot an iraqi child easily if it looked like it was going to hurt me or one of my guys'.
I miss my mouth and instantly spill ice cold water down my neck and chest. I dont gasp or jump up...i don't think i even noticed myself shiver.
They'd shoot a child if it looked like it would hurt. Even without being sure. They called an iraqi child 'It'. I don't think i can describe what happened at that moment, which is my soul became devoid of any emotion. A and I stare at each other for what seems to be an eternity. He's a good guy, but I realise at that moment each values their own more.
'try not to shoot everyone', I mumble to A, even though I have a feeling that he won't shoot anyone.
He nods, and I spend a few brief minutes teaching him nice words.
A few hours later, A tries to mess my (now long) hair, while i swat his hand away repeatedly, like it was a fly. For years and years, they've only seen my hair around shoulder length, so now its novel to them.
Unfortunatley he succeeds in messing my hair up, and despite my angry glares, I give up stopping him, and i also give up tidying it. I occasionally blow my hair out of my face every few seconds.
He continues to mess it up, with my female friends deciding to start tidying my hair up for me.
What ensues is a battle where A (and occasionally a few of his friends) mess my hair up, while my female friends tidy it up, and slap A's hand away.
I'm too busy laughing to notice the bewildered stares of those around us. I'm also too busy laughing to realise it hurts.