Class Barriers.

The idea of structured social barriers is often portrayed as anachronistic, something that is generally thought to have petered out a few decades ago. I tend to disagree with that strain of opinion. I see examples of a class based social divide that is alive and well in my own particular cultural context. I will say though that in my experience class barriers are not the firm unmovable obstacles depicted in Victorian period dramas or DH lawrence novels. Rather they're about attitudes, usually attitudes of superiority but occasionally the assumption of inferiority is also present. An example of the former would be the glorious occasion of our former Prime Minister Mr. Gordon Brown's encounter with the, "Bigoted Woman".  Brown's exclamation, prefaced with the glottal hiss that so exquisitely conveyed his contempt for Gillian Duffy will forever remain the prime example of the superior attitude. 

The reason I'm mulling over this topic this moment is because I've just had an encounter with a girl while queuing in Tesco for some provisions for the evening, well I say encounter what I actually mean is I saw this hot chick in the queue. She wasn't the only attractive young lady there but her demeanor marked her out. It prompted me to make a set of assumptions about the girl, Intelligent, efficient, tidy, well armored in social grace, etcetera, to put it simply classy is the word I'd use. In the past when I'd encounter girls like this one of two things would occur, I'd discover that she was intensely materialistic interested only in status and cash. The second contingency would be that she or someone would introduce me to her man, "He's a prince whose African tribe can trace their lineage to Ramasese!" I'd be told. I might then point out that Egypt is in north Africa, that legend states Ramasese was ginger which would most likely make him a Berber or Riff and that our friend Duan here is probably from Streatham. None of which would make any significant impact upon the situation and I'd be left to infer in some manner that the chick in question considered me to be, not within the bounds of her social strata.

I will now convey to you the circumstances under which the only exception to that mentioned above occurred. After some thought I've decided to use the alias Terry for the lady in question. Terry was my immediate superior at work, she possessed all those attributes I've associated with the adjective, classy with the added benefit of a sense of humour and she was probably one of the most attractive women I've known. Needless to say I was quite attracted towards her but while in those days I was quite extrovert and frequently flirted and joked with women at work, with Terry I was always business like and sober. I always ate at my desk but one day a group of girls, Terry among them, invited me to the canteen. I declined at first but after a bit of cajoling I relented and accompanied them. I should have realized something was up but at the time I had no idea I was being set up for an ambush. See they'd invited me there at Terry's behest to confront me over my coolness towards Terry, they wanted me out of the office to avoid eavesdropping from management I suppose. I was sat opposite Terry at a refectory table and little uncomfortable with the situation trying hard to maintain my aloofness with Terry when one of the girls asked abruptly, "Why are you so mean to Terry?".

This was the cue for the interrogation to begin "Yeah you're always mean to me" Terry chipped in.

Taken aback I retorted the best I could, "I'm not mean to you, I'm just being polite," this made no impression and I was quickly informed that the difference in my demenour towards to Terry had caused some consternation.

"You're always laughing and joking with the other girls but your so aloof with me," said Terry.

"Ah, you noticed?" I replied, to which all those gathered at the table replied in the affirmative. By the way there was one other man at the table, Eric, a dull mousy Scot who'd joined the table when he entered the canteen.

"Do you not like me for some reason, have I offended you in some way?" asked Terry.

"No it's not that, I'm not offended and I quite like you".

"Well?" the inquisition continued.

"Oh hell, do you really want me to tell you?" the conversation continued in this vein for a few more sentences until I finally resigned myself to the minor revelation that was about to ensue. "It's nothing important or anything you've done, it's me, in fact you'll probably think it's quite funny and laugh".

I drew a deep breath and continued, "You probably didn't notice this but on your first day here you caught the bus from the train station to work. I was waiting at the stop reading the paper when you turned up. Of course I didn't know who you were but when I first saw you I thought to myself, why aren't there any women like that in my life?" This statement was accompanied by a collective clatter of dropped cutlery and gaping jaws at the table. 

I continued, "I couldn't take my eyes off you on the bus, I watched you all the way to the stop. I couldn't believe it when you walked in to the building, I though to myself I've got to find where works in the building. Then you turn into the office and you're introduced to me as my new boss. I told myself at that moment that I wouldn't do anything that might jeopardize the chances of me having sex with you. That meant not flirting or becoming too familiar with you and to maintain some aloofness while still being pleasant." Those dangling jaws at the table had lowered themselves to the floor by now Terry was the first to gain her composure, then she started to laugh. "See, I told you it was funny," I said.

"So, you think you're going to have sex with me?" she asked her feigned indignance betrayed by the laughter she was trying to stifle.

"Er, I think it's unlikely," I replied...

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