A Day in the Life of the Oppressed (Me)

How a golf course, a speed camera, and a locked front door prove that society is fundamentally unjust.

In a world full of grave injustice, it was heartening to see Iceland (the nation, not the shop) take a stand for justice last week .

But this is just the beginning, there is still so much more to do. We are told that we live in a world of injustice, and after careful reflection/incessant badgering, I have come to realise that this is absolutely the case in relation to me - the measure of all things.

Just take a typical day in my life and you’ll soon see how much injustice there is to fight!…and this is coming from a white 2 legged woman, imagine if I was non-white, non two-legged and non…no hang on…you can’t get more oppressed than a woman.

I recently tried to have a picnic on my local golf course, and was rudely and abruptly asked to leave! I had just unveiled my scotch egg and opened a packet of quavers when, to my enormous surprise, a man (it would be wouldn’t it!) with a walkkie talkie, walkied over to me and talkied, saying

“You can’t eat a picnic here!”

What he didn’t realise was that I really like eating scotch eggs on golf courses. He could be forgiven that, but even after I told him that I loved eating on golf courses, he said he didn’t care. Didn’t care?!

Well, after this unfortunate incident I decided to go for a nice drive, at a speed that makes me happy. Lo and behold, it turned out that the speed I was doing was punishable by death….no, wait, hang on….by £60. I wanted to drive at 47 miles an hour. I like that speed, it’s nice. A kind of goldilocks speed, not too fast, not too slow, just right. And I’m punished for this! Nazis!

Well, the picnic had failed and the country drive was a disaster, what was there left to do, but head over to my nearest orthodox Rabbi’s house and seek his counsel. “Shalom” I said when he opened the door, knowing how to ingratiate myself with a Rabbi. “Who are you?” the Rabbi said. I extended my hand to make his acquaintance and he shunned me away, refusing to shake it - would you believe it! He refused to shake my hand! After the day I was having!

Well, next best thing, I thought - jump on the train and head to my nearest Mosque. Maybe I’ll have more luck with the Muslims. When I arrived, I was expected to perform some kind of washing ritual before entering the building. I said outright that I loved being in a state of ritual impurity and absolutely would not wash but nevertheless wanted to go and kneel down with my picnic items and contemplate the injustice. Again, I was asked to leave. I was starting to suspect that I might be the problem, but then again, I knew deep down that that couldn’t be the case, after all, God made me like this.

I recalled happier days, when I was a child, sitting in a circle listening to my primary school teacher read us a story. So I returned to that same school, approached the receptionist and asked if I could join class 3B for storytime. She asked who I was (which i thought was a little rude) why did she need to know that?! Anyway, out of politeness, I told her my name. She asked if I had a child at the school, whether I was a guardian, who I worked for, what business I had being there….question after question, I was interrogated, and again thrown out, dejected, by the very people who claim to be caring!

At the end of a long day, I couldn’t face cooking so I went to a beautiful high end restaurant and asked if I could have a table for one. I was immediately seated at the most exquisite little table on the balcony overlooking the hubub below. I ordered the most expensive bottle of wine (after already necking the one I mistakenly brought to the mosque in my picnic hamper….I hate waste, and love getting smashed) and a fillet steak cooked medium rare. All was going well, until I tried to pay using a collection of old photographs depicting my deceased grandmother - “these I believe to be more valuable than Gold.” I said, “But they only have value to you - they hold no objective value” I was told, before being frogmarched out of there, once more finding myself rejected & judged in a hostile and unjust world. “Objective value” I murmered “Nazis"!”

At 10:26pm I stumbled (now smashed off my face) into the most exclusive members only club in London and asked them to let me in. They refused. By this stage I was really angry and so I wrote a strongly worded letter in my head to the founder, and sent it via brain waves. I have, as yet, received no reply. A further injustice. Why should I be expected to use the postal service just like everybody else, when I prefer to send messages via thought? Another example of discrimination against the telepathic. We will have our revenge, and you lot won’t see it coming!

Exhausted, I returned home and waited for the door to unlock so that I could get into my comfortable bed.

“Use your keys,” someone shouted after 23 minutes of my intense staring at the door.

“Why should I?” I retorted. “I don’t need to live by your rules. Nazi!”

Eventually, at 1:34am, I began to sob and collapsed into a heap on the doorstep. “Do you want me to help?” a familiar voice asked.

I looked up. It was the man who had banished me from the golf course.

“Would you?” I said, suddenly full of warmth, reaching for my keys at last.

“Of course,” he replied gently. “This is no place for you to be at this hour.”

For a moment, I hesitated. Then, with great dignity, I put the keys back in my pocket and said;

“Always the same with you, isn’t it? Nazi”