Tales of daily life from a 20-something Student from London.

Friday, 17 June 2011



Some people say that winks are a bit gay. I disagree. I think acknowledging someone with a wink is a pretty slick thing to do. It's effortless. Blam, eye closed and reopened in, quite literally, the blink of an eye. When I handed a CV into Superdry a few days ago, the guy who I handed it to responded with such an accurate wink that moved at the speed of a Puma on steroids, that I was blown away. I bloody wish I could wink like that. Why is winking a skill that is gifted only to a unique few, much like being able to do that hand thing out of Star Trek? Why can't everyone be as badass as famous, manly winkers such as Harrison Ford in Indiana Jones, Jeff Bridges in True Grit (ok, so he has an eyepatch, he still winks!), and the robot at the end of I, Robot? Where is the wink for the average Joe? Why is it that, when I try and wink, the right side of my face decides to cut out and leave me looking like some sort of half-grinning pervert. I'm 20 and it's still something that I haven't come to terms with.

Oh well. 

I can do it on a keyboard.


So, I got a job. Superdry in Romford are now the proud owner of a me. As far as interviews go though, it was a strange one. Did you know Superdry was originally spawned by two English chaps in peaceful Cheltenham? News to me, which didn't go down too well after I professed that I was aware of its ancient Japanese origins. It does say 'JPN' in big letters, after all. 

Over and out.