social conventions Archives - I'm Not Doctor Who

It's kind of weird how, as you go through your life, you inevitably develop the feeling that you're "not allowed" to do certain things, because people will judge you and mock you for doing them — and that your own individual window of tolerance for that sort of thing will inevitably change as your life goes on, you grow older and stop giving a shit what anyone else thinks.

One of the things that most readily springs to mind is the matter of taking a bath. When you're a kid, taking a bath is, for most people, probably the default for a full-body wash, simply because you may not be tall enough to be able to use the shower effectively, or because it's easier to supervise a child in a bath than it is a child in the shower. At some point, probably around your early teens, taking a bath — if you're a boy, anyway — becomes taboo. You have showers now; you're a big manly man. You don't even cry when you get shampoo in your eyes while washing your hair. No baths for you!

A few years back — I forget exactly when, but it was at some point in the last 15 years or so — I started taking baths as a default again. The first couple of times reminded me that sometimes, there's nothing nicer than just being able to luxuriate in some warm water that has something that smells nice in it. And now, it is by far my preferred means of getting myself clean — even if, as a larger gentleman, it would perhaps be nice to be able to fill the tub a little higher without risk of spilling water all over the floor.

I wonder where these attitudes come from? I don't remember anyone specifically telling me that I should no longer have baths — though I do remember Chandler on Friends being mocked by his male peers Joey and Ross for taking a bath at the suggestion of the girls — but I definitely had the feeling that I described above: I was a grown man now, so I "should" have showers. Why? Why "should" I have showers? Who is going to tell me that I'm not "supposed" to have baths? No-one. Because the idea that you're not supposed to do something like that is bollocks, of course.

I'm sure it happens with lots of other things, too. The alcoholic drinks that it's socially acceptable for one to order, particularly as a man. (To be fair, when I still drank semi-regularly, this is a "rule" I flouted pretty much all the time, because I don't like beer and much preferred alcopops as a general rule.) The food one eats. The media one engages with. The colours of clothing one can wear. The designs one can have on one's T-shirt.

I guess the one advantage of being mostly disgusted with my own appearance and general status is that I really don't give a shit about any of these things any more. I wear what I want, I engage with the media that I want to engage with and I certainly still order a Smirnoff Ice with no shame if I'm in a situation where drinking socially would probably make the evening more bearable.

And, yes, I take baths. In fact, I'm off to go and take one right now, because I smell, bits of me are sticking to other bits of me, and I think pretty much every muscle in my entire body aches. So I am going to go and have a bath, and I am going to go and enjoy it. And there's nothing any of you can do about it!

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Those of you who've been following me for a while will know that I have been known to make occasional forays into the virtual world of Second Life. For all its flaws and glaring technical errors and furry porn and flourishing sex industry, I always find it a genuinely fascinating experience from both social and creative angles.

I have one particular friend in that "other" world that I want to talk about today. We both started at around the same time, which means our avatars are both around the four year old mark right now. I've been rather more sporadic in my attendance than she has, but ever since we met we've shared a very close friendship which is pretty much unlike any of the other relationships I've cultivated in that particular world. She's one of those "constants" that you know you can always rely on. She's always been there, and has always offered a sympathetic ear when I've needed one.

We've also always shared a mutual love of insulting the crap out of each other. She admonishes me for my long absences and the fact I can type without mistakes at 85 words per minute. In response, I take great delight in drawing attention to her own typos, which have resulted in us inventing a number of our own words that anyone coming into our group is utterly bewildered by. I'm not even convinced we know what "furple" and "plinge" mean. But from the context, they are generally inclined to sound dirty.

Then we'll find something to argue about like children. Last night saw a particularly epic "am not, are too" battle that managed to impress everyone around us with our sheer tenacity. One of us will, at some point, accuse the other of being a pervert. The other will, in turn, bring up something from the past which lends incontrovertible evidence that no, they are in fact the pervert here. And so it goes on. For hours at a time, usually.

This is something that has always baffled me about friendship. At what stage do you make that mutual decision that it's okay to be incredibly rude to one another, especially in front of other people? It's one of those peculiar contradictions that seems to make perfect sense while you're engaged in it, yet is utter nonsense when you think about it. The common theory is that it's a sign you're so comfortable with one another you're happy to say absolutely anything to one another, because you know that you do genuinely care about each other. In the case of my friend and I, there's generally a bit of playing up for the crowd, too—they've come to expect it of us. When we're alone together, we'll generally talk normally and candidly.

I have a number of "real life" friends who are like this, too, so it's not just a case of the John Gabriel Internet Fuckwad Theory coming to life. Board game nights generally degenerate into smack talk and aspersions cast on pretty much everything it's possible to cast aspersions on. And yet somehow without disrupting the gameplay. (Much. Usually.)

I guess it's one of those social anomalies that we'll never truly understand. Still, it always keeps things entertaining.

With that in mind, thanks for reading, you complete bellend.