Since my Tinder post went off like a
bomb, I thought I’d serve up another story time with a healthy side of mild
embarrassment. Although I’m not easily
embarrassed, so I’d rather call it social discomfort.
Let me tell you about the time I found
out I have very little hearing in my left ear.
Not entirely sure how it happened, but this was the event that alerted
me to my diminished auditory ability.
Long, long ago, when Cornerhouse still
stood in Fourways, my sister and I used to go there for some of the bands and
stuff. Not frequently or anything,
because that place was rough af. So
there we are, Meagan, friend Jayd and me, going to watch some Mean Mr Mustard
(that’s right, this is how long ago it was: 2009). I tried to find some photo evidence but it seems that I have successfully erased pre-glow-up Melissa from social media.
We mill around downstairs but it’s
really crowded so we decide to head up to the balcony, which is entirely
vacant. While on the balcony, looking
out over the crowd, I spotted two guys talking while pointing at us and started
making their way upstairs.
Now, for the younger readers, let me
try to explain how dark a period 2009 actually was when it came to men in my
age group. First of all, they were not
men, they were boys. Secondly, it was
the age of “pop punk” and dry shampoo was an invention of the future. Therefore hair was long and greasy and
revolting. (BTW, the alternative was a Mohawk
with a tail/mini-mullet at the back – no one was a winner). The only positive thing I could say about the
era was that skate shoes were finally getting smaller.
So there we are, waiting for these
guys to make their way up to us, even though we’d be shutting them down like
Windows shortly. I get the one with the
longest hair – lucky me. He starts
talking to me and soon establishes that with all the music in the confined
area, I could not hear shit.
So he invades my personal space and holds
me around the back of my neck, and closes my left earhole with his thumb. Then he carries on speaking to me, leaning in
close. I, however, could still not hear
anything.
You know when someone keeps saying
something and you’re not sure what they said, so you just start answering to
what you think you heard? Yes, don’t do
that.
I thought this guy kept leaning over
to say “are you ok with me?”, so to be polite I vigorously nodded my head and
said ‘yes’ very clearly. I mean, I
should have questioned it after he asked me the fourth time, looking very
upset. Then he all but yelled in my ear “I
said, are you ashamed of me?!”
That poor boy. He never saw that coming. I mean, I wasn’t keen but I certainly wouldn’t
be ashamed of being seen with a grimy-looking-late-teenager in public. Would I?
I still laugh about it to this
day. So that is why if we ever meet in a
loud club, direct all of your comments to my RIGHT ear.
Until next time, love and light ♡♡♡