After the HORROR of softbois and their attempts at appearing cultured and sensitive, now there is the new HORROR of performative reading.
As a man bloke whom engages in reading for show (to appear cultured and intellectual) may be a heinous blaggard with the intelligence of a dead rat. We examine the plight of today’s performative geezer in denial as we guide him towards (some sort of) future.
When a Man Reads For Show
Crime and Punishment.
That’s how it started, yeah? I went into Manchester city centre and did laps around Piccadilly Gardens, stopping off at a new cafe every 30 minutes, clutching me book, pretending to read, hoping it’d impressed women (because chicks dig a guy who reads and is dead smart) because it shows I are dead smart, have dead good taste and can sit and read a book and/or walk while reading a book.
Because you won’t know, Crime and Punishment were written by Fred Dickenson (not Dickheadson, but Dickenson) or something and I got three pages in and fuck me it’s a right old snorefest wtf do people even read for? Don’t understand it me these days it’s what people did in 1850 or whatever when there wasn’t no TikTok. But yeah anyway me and the book.
So I swiped a copy of the book from Oxfam [Editor: The charity establishment here in the UK] and did a runner with it. Saved me £1 that did. Then 100 yards down the road at Piccadilly Gardens I started doing my laps. I’ve pretended to be 200 pages into it, but also pick random sentences from it and read it aloud to myself while looking off into the distance and being all fancy like.
I did that all bastard day until it got dark then went and sat in Spoons [Editor: Wetherspoons, a popular low budget pub chain here in the UK) then into Maccy Ds (Editor: McDonald’s, a popular global fast food chain whom serve the likes of fries, Big Macs etc.] and guess the bloody hell what?
NOT A SINGLE WOMAN HIT ON ME.
ZILCH.
It’s a fact. Manchester women are SKANKS (and not in a good way) with no brains or integrity and it makes me sick. And I was sick, too, because of all that Maccy Ds and Spoons food I eated and I threw up in Piccadilly Gardens. But it didn’t stop me from “reading” Crime and Punishment. I went into Bolton of Greater Manchester the next day and hung around Spoons, Maccy Ds, Greggs and KFC wandering around with the book with a kind of thinking expression on my face to impress the girls.
Nowt.
Next day I went into Preston, then the day after Bury, then Blackburn, then I thought “enough of these northern losers” so I got a train to London and spent ALL DAY walking around London, then using the tube, with me Crime and Punishment copy. £300 it all cost me and I had to get a £50 hostel room sharing with three Dutch guys with stinking big feet and BO. Not a good night of sleep.
So I gave up and went up to Manchester the next day. Went walking around Piccadilly with the book in hand and I went straight up to this woman who I fancied and went, “Oi! Woman! Look! I’m reading Crime and Punishment will you go out with me?” She looked disgusted and walked off well fast.
Is that a no? Should I keep checking back tomorrow if she’s around waiting for my number?
Ta, Ollie
Hello there, Oliver. That’s a no, we’re afraid, women who are interested in you won’t flee in terror. Worth keeping in mind. Also, your performative reading needs more focus on performative arts. Think… interpretative dance! 🩰
Get yourself fitted out in a pair of tights, v neck leotard, and some ballet shoes. Prance with gay abandon around Piccadilly Gardens whilst clutching your copy of Crime and Punishment, the human females will flock to you by there tens of thousands (maybe).
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