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This is a question Things we do to fit in

"When I was fifteen," writes No3L, "I curled up in a Budgens trolley while someone pushed it through the supermarket doors to nick vodka and Benny Hedgehogs, just to hang out with my brother and his mates."

What have you done to fit in?

(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 12:30)
Pages: Popular, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

When I meet a new woman
I always go for the slightly vulnerable type, you know the kind: they've been out there and tried to mix with the animals, but have just ended up feeling solitary and in need of human contact.

And then they meet me and their whole world changes, because I say everything they want to hear. To them, I'm perfect in every way and I make them feel powerful inside.

I hide behind my smile and my understanding eyes. I tell them things they've already told me, so that they can say "I identify with you so much". If they catch me out, I beg for one more chance and say I'll never lie to them again, but I know I will.

Why do I do this? Because I'm a liar, a liar...
(, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 10:53, 3 replies)
How do I fit in? With great difficulty as it happens.
I was born on a dying planet before being sent to Earth as an infant by my scientist father, moments before my home planet’s destruction. I was discovered and adopted by a Kansas farmer and his wife; I was raised as their son and subsequently imbued with a strong moral compass. Very early in my life I started to display superhuman abilities, which upon reaching my maturity, I resolved to use for the benefit of humanity. Today I defeated Brainiac and Mr Myxlplyk as they tried to take over the world.

Incident Report

Subject: powervator

Incident details: Subject tried to punch an old man through the canteen wall in the asylum hospital whilst screaming that he was defying the greatest villain of them all, ‘Brainiac’. The old man suffered bruising and lacerations. Subject then tried to use ‘laser vision’ (i.e. throwing lukewarm tea) to burn an old lady he accused of being ‘Mr Myxlplyk’ whilst shouting the name backwards before being physically restrained.

Background: Subject believes that he is a superhero akin to ‘Superman’ with all consequential abilities available to him. Subject has tried to fit in with the other ward residents he doesn’t consider to be ‘super villains’ by attempting to join what he calls a ‘Justice League’ that he believes meets in the female toilets on a Tuesday lunchtime. He believes that the members of the ‘Justice League’ inhabit the toilets and sanitary napkin bin and as a result, plays with the contents.

Subject is to undergo electroshock treatment next week.
(, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 10:27, 1 reply)
I'm so, so, sorry
It's in the living room.
Frequently, I sit on it,
to relax, to watch the telly,
to chat inanely with my housemates
and occasionally,
guests.

It's comfortable,
It's flexible,
And many times,
After a lengthy evening with too much to drink,
Our guests might stay,
And we'll unfold it,
For them to sleep,
Whilst I
slip something
into their
last drink
"Plop,"
the tablet fizzes for just a moment,
but they don't notice the subtle change in
taste.

And as they sleep, unconscious
In the living room
I perform
Unspeakable acts
Upon their
Sensitive bits
On this folding
sofa-bed.

These are the things I do to Futon.

Once again, I am so, so, sorry
(, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 10:19, 2 replies)
Trying to impress a girl.
Some time ago, I was trying to impress a girl and make out I was better than I was. I ended up buying "expensive look" clothes to fool her. Like my shoes looked like they were leather, but they were plastic - plus I bought ones with heels on them so I looked taller. I bought a really cheap suit that looked expensive, but was little more than a sack. I even pretended I was younger than I was. But the worst thing I did was made out that I was white, even though my dad is black.

When she realised that I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth, she cried, but I could tell she was faking it.

In the end, I realised I was just a subsitute for another guy...
(, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 10:07, 7 replies)
Everyone's done it
But as a relatively timid youngster, egging people's houses in the dark on Halloween was about the most daring thing I'd do to fit in with the more popular people in my year.

By the end of the night I was being hailed as some kind of hero, having managed to hit the upper windows of several houses from across the street, while my comrades struggled with hitting the ground floor windows.

Twas a fun night.
(, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 9:44, Reply)
Little
I had very little cred, coolness, dignity etc at school but I made up for this in academic brilliance - ha! that showed them!

What little I did have, my mum spent a not inconsiderable amount of time eradicating. I was never allowed to choose my own clothes, ever. Until one day. When ski jackets were all the rage, my mum finally relented to my endless verbiage and agreed to let me choose my own ski jacket. After all, it would keep me warm in winter. We went to C&A or some other hole in Stockport. After a while, I spotted it, not only was this just goddarn it the most beautiful piece of accouterment I had ever clapped eyes on, it was currently the piece de resistance of one the ages most popular television stars. This one single item of clothing, would quite possibly make me the coolest, and most popular kid in the school, if not the county.

Retrospect is a wonderful thing and I realise now I misunderestimated my future schoolage worshippers. In my school, if your parents numbered more than 1, and they owned a house, you were a middle class twat.

So I probably shouldnt have bought this jacket as so proudly adorns Mr Harry Enfield, in his guise as Loadsamoney.

20 odd years later, its still entirely possible to walk though my old village and hear the occasional distant "LOADSAMONEY" accompanied by a jeering, shaking of a wad of money action, followed by a doppler wave of laughter and giggles.

But like almost every previous post, I learned not to try to fit in and be myself but this is something everyone has to figure out for themselves.
(, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 9:44, 1 reply)
Thank you
My mum always wanted me to fit in. When I was growing up she was incessantly badgering me to conform to societal norms. If somebody gave me a gift or held a door open for me, that sort of thing, she would always say:

'Now then, Spanky - say 'thank you.'

I was always a polite boy anyway and always said please and thank you, so it used to bug the hell out of me.

So, fast forward a few years. I was nineteen, up in Manchester Uni having a whale of a time. And on one fateful night there a girl (technically a girl although my mates named her Manchild), was kind enough to take me back to her flat and let me have my ten seconds of ecstacy rummaging round inside her guts. Cherry well and truly popped.

Moments after I'd finished, I turned to her and held her hand as tenderly as I could after more Stella than is normaly humanly possible to consume, and I looked her ernestly in the eye and said:

'Thank you.'

And she went fucking mental.

Note to self: Dont thank people for letting you have sex with them, it makes them feel like a prostitue.
(, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 9:27, 21 replies)
Throwing a fit in management
I always wanted to be in management. I had the intellect and the wardrobe and most of all, the taste for a better salary and willingness to give, not take, orders. I found an employer that shared my philosophies, though he eventually retired. The new boss was a pleasant fellow but no management genius.

The company:
Management: dress professionally, work hard, get meager salary increases on a semi-regular basis.

Staff Do-Fuckalls: dress like tarts or hoboes, work as little as possible, get meager salary increases on a semi-regular basis.

Me: management. Relentlessly engaged in the mind-numbing fighting of the SDF and trying to get the other managers to maintain some work standard.

So I decided I wanted out and found it would better take a degree, like the one I hadn’t bothered to finish back when this type of job didn’t take a degree. So I went back to uni.

I took classes during my off hours, then took a few that qualified as “training” during work hours. Which they paid for. My 60-hour workweeks fell to 40 hours but management still worshipped me as their own shining example.

Then I found I could do much of my schoolwork at my desk during lunch and breaks. As the course load increased, I found I could do that during work, while on hold with the head office and whatnot. Then I found I could do the homework that related to my job. Then I found, what the hell, I could do my homework while waiting for IT or the other SDFs to complete their sections.

I soon finished my degree. The workload was good and the money got even better. I decided to go for an advanced degree, since the vast majority of employees have at least one. Though some of them are quite “special,” well, thought I, “if they can, I certainly can!”

Again I took classes and did homework during the workday. I dressed like a grad student, in whatever was semi-clean when I stumbled out of bed that morning, and finished my graduate degree requirements.

The workload got better and better and the money more fantastic. Now I do a fraction of the work I used to do, and I get paid a hefty salary to think and consider and issue opinions and recommendations. I still dress like a grad student.

So it seems that in order to fit in, I have become a Do-Fuckall.

Apologies for length. I post here, to numb my pain.
(, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 9:19, Reply)
if you can read this
whatever you tried didn't work.
(, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 6:42, 1 reply)
oh god, fitting in...
Changing my entire personality and tastes and style just to get in with a lovely young lady I met in that cesspit known as uni halls.
Didn't work of course, but then I started being my long haired, slightly camp, model painting self again and she was right there...
I still cringe at what I turned into just for her though

Lesson there?

Standard uni peer pressure situations as well -cigarettes, drugs etc. mercifully remained addiction free though (fingers crossed)

Wow this was too long for a first go, Apologies.
(, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 0:07, Reply)
This happened last night...
I thought it'd be "worth it" to go to the last ever Astoria gig with a couple of pals... however not being a big fan of the indie music that was showcasing i felt somewhat out of place.
Until...
Some big hairy arsemonger emerged out of the crowd and shook my hand!
needless to say i was delighted to finally be accepted at a gig crammed with numerous indie cindies and generic arses!
The hairy man... or "Hagrid" as I lovingly named him, whilst shaking my hand commented that my drumming was fucking brilliant earlier on in the gig.
Now normal me would have said "No... oh no mate you've got the wrong person"... but i needed to feel accepted!

I'm waiting for a call from him to arrange a jam session...

Oh the glorious extent lies take you!
(, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 0:01, 1 reply)
It's never bothered me
This "run with the pack, fit into the herd, be the 103rd goose in our V formation" mentality.

I've always been different, and who I wanted to be - a loose cannon, if you want.

Never conform, never consort, never compromise has always been my motto.

So getting made redundant on January 14th came as a double blow. Not only is my illustrious career of being paid quite a lot to do quite a little under threat but I have to share this occasion with more than four thousand others.

Had Robert Peston popped up on the BBC news and said "It's been a fine day today in the UK economy with the singular exception of The Disappointed" I'd have been fine.

But no - four thousand. And on the day that Patrick McGooghan died too.

After years of fighting for my right to be me against a tsunami of dismal unimaginative proles just wanting to be like the next dismal unimaginative prole I've been plunged into the morass.

And I don't feel it's right to explain that I am not a number, I'm a free (thinking) man either.

Any jobs going? West/North Yorkshire (could do Colne Valley if brain transplant and charisma bypass offered), laid back, ultra-creative man can do pretty much anything except cooking? Will work for sex.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 23:57, 2 replies)
Well when it's your Mother...
Not much to be honest, it's like a wizard's sleeve...
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 23:31, 2 replies)
It's taken me years...
to get to the point where fitting in looks natural, even though it doesn't feel that way. Years of listening to people say things and watching them do things without understanding what I should be doing in response, or even if I should be doing anything.

At its most extreme it has physically felt like I've stepped back a foot from my eyeballs and I'm staring at a couple of fuzzy TV sets from within a darkened room. For some reason, peoples' heads look comically small when that happens.

After years of observation and analysis, I think I've finally got a handle on how I should behave in company. The weird looks that used to come my way have largely stopped, at least.

You know what helps the most? Imagining, while I'm talking to someone, hitting them in the head with an aluminium baseball bat then, after they fall to the ground, repeatedly stomping on their head until their cranium resembles strawberry jam with white bits in.

Want to come 'round to my place for tea later? I've got a train set.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 22:45, 1 reply)
I spent most of my secondary school years
Trying desperately hard to fit in. At university I gave up trying and decided to do my own thing, and went off and listened to the music that I wanted to, dressed how I wanted to, and did what I wanted to.

Now, as a pierced tattooed biker with an eclectic music taste, a penchant for lewd, offensive comments and a habit of running round tube stations for fun, I find myself popular and reasonably well liked by the people I hang around with. I'm genuinely not sure whether this reflects well on me or badly on them.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 22:09, Reply)
Jesus of Cool
When I were nobbut a lad of 14, the village youth club put on a series of gigs for us Midlands Yokels to attend. Very early 70's, they had Lindisfarne, Van Der Graaf Generator, Medicine Head, Chicken Shack and Genesis, all for the princely sum of £40 per band.

Genesis were the epitome of cool. THE next big thing. We all knew it,and so did they.
Being 14 and being with The Lads, I asked the roadies (tuff looking blokes, with real beards who could count up to two without stopping!)if we could meet the band.

"Fuck off" we were told, in a manner which left us in no doubt that we should indeed fornicate elsewhere.

However....

One of the band appeared, remonstrated with the roadies, and sat with us awhile, on the side of the youth club stage, chewing the cud, being generally a Top Bloke, talking to us about Yes, school, girls and being just the nicest future rock star you could hope to meet.

F***ing Phil Collins - we never lived it down.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 22:07, 2 replies)
I hate you and everything you stand for, now fucking laugh at me!
As I'm sure many of you on this comedy oriented website can relate to, I use jokes, quips and anecdotes to make people laugh.
Although I enjoy making my friends laugh, I do occasionally find myself trying to attain the affection of some arsehole I barely know and don't actually like through humour, as I'm sure you guys can relate to. Feels shit doesn't it.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 21:56, Reply)
On occasion
I have pretended I give a fuck.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 21:24, 3 replies)
I tend to jump the gun
By answering QOTW's before they've been asked.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 21:19, 4 replies)
Lesbian Love
I know a group of lesbians, and rather fancied one of the youngest, but she disdained me for being both older and male. So when I dressed up in drag for a theatrical, I thought to blend in with the girls and approach her again. I mean, it's just between us girls, after all - all I ever do is think about women too!

To my surprise, the instant I approached her with my ruby lipstick, stiletto heels, fishnet stockings and enormous eyelashes, she yelped, dropped into a fetal ball, and started screaming "Rape!"
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 20:53, 3 replies)
Sitting here i on my own....
maybe i should have tri.... nah stuff it - people are stupid!
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 20:52, 2 replies)
i'm sure many can agree.
i was offered a fag at school by a group of cool kids, so i said yeh to "try and fit in" now i cant get through a day without more than my fair share of nicotine. still... i have no intention of quitting.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 20:36, 1 reply)
this lad
was new to the area when i was a kid, and let me get this out of the way first of all; this boy was a cunt. a total cunt. his dad was the scoutmaster and wouldnt let the other kids talk to him during meets.

me and my mates were just getting into alcohol at that time (remember what its like when you're 13 and raiding your parents whisky cabinet?) anyway, this new kid was a total cunt, and had never tried drink.

We told him that he had to try some before he can hang around with us, so instead of drinking a few beers, he downed half a bottle of gordons, fucking twat. Seemed fine at first, then he did that thing when you're drunk and cant control your eyeballs.

Anyway, he passed out, so we thought we'd fuck about with this whining little bitch. We stripped him of his clothes, dressed him up in our granddad's clothes (including a flat cap), got a very old paper from the library (took some skill that did), carried him out to a baron field, tucked the paper under his arm, and left him there till morning.

He woke up, couldnt remember anything, looked at his clothes, looked around him (no pylons, cars, or buildings), then saw the date on the paper. Stupid cunt thought he was in the past. Brilliant.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 20:36, 12 replies)
Not me, but one of the cunts in the office
I'll call him "Ian the Cunt", because "Ian" just isn't enough to describle this person. He looks like trailer trash meets Roland Rat, has got a perchant for wearing Everlast gear, has a large gold belt buckle on all the time, which is only just obscured by the bumbag he wears constantly. Yes, he wears a bumbag about the office.

So rather strangely after all this presentation, "Ian the Cunt" doesn't quite fit in, but he tries. Oh for fucks sake he tries. If anyone on the team is having a chat he'll walk over laughing and saying "hahaha.....oh gawd". We kinda look at him awkwardly, wondering why he's just steamrollered in with that and not said anything else. He's still standing there, smiling to himself.

He was trying to become a friend of one of the guys here called Daryl, and Daryl was being polite as he'd just joined the team. He asked Daryl if he could call around his house to copy some files to a backup hard drive he had, so Dar foolishly said yes. He stayed at his house for 8 hours. Daryl just couldn't get him out of the house. When he finally kicked out the cunt, he left it at that.

It turned Chrimbo and New Year, and on New Year's Eve Ian turns up at Daryl's house, just as he's about to leave for an all-nighter.
"Greetings!" he says while holding 2 bottles of Daryl's favourity wine, which freaked the fuck out of Daryl as he hadn't told him what he drank.
"Errrrr, cheers Ian" says Dar, he grabs both bottles off him, thanks him then says "Sorry but I'm off out now" and legs it off to the party before Ian could follow him.

A few weeks later; when it's a co-worker's birthday, we all chip in a few quid and get something for that person (as we're all mainly ok). It turns out that Daryl's is next so we all chip in. Ian The Cunt starts trying too hard though, and goes out to buy Daryl a 4gb Memory Stick Duo for his PSP (setting him back £30 odd quid at the time). Bestest, bestest friends. Obviously, we all took the piss royally out of the cunt "Hey, it's my birthday in a month, I want an Xbox 360, but I'm not into bum-love".

He's done this and more just to try to fit in, but he couldn't look odder if he tried.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 19:21, 9 replies)
one thing comes to mind...
Back in 8th grade I had problems with some bullies. Being short and tubby didn't help to much but I was still good looking. anyway back to the story, I liked to put milk in my my pudding, for some reasons this made me not fit in, I don't know how cause its not like its made without milk, but after telling my mom and going to the headmaster, this is what the hm told me, "just let them do it to you they'll get bored of it in a week." WTF!O_o This was the person that was to make it stop and she says to let them do it so I can fit in! Repeat WTF!O_o
after that I did as I wanted to and eventually left that school.

still the lack of funny =(
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 19:19, 4 replies)
In my youth
I've been and in no particular order... a skinhead, a rocker, a curehead, a ska, a chino wearing side parting docksider shod gimp (this was the most worrying one in my books) a new age type and a raver... at 35 I'm a genericly dressed unremarkable punter but still always up for a rave.... once bitten forever smitten :) hope to get a marquee up this summer and throw a few free parties with help from some friends - have to keep saying this in order for it to happen... Hippy at heart ... Mind you, how I managed to get to 35 with no tattoos or piercings is a serious mystery...

I fitted in a restaraunt once - alergy to anchovies you know... :-)

is it only me or is the humour slowly slipping from the qotw ? Nice that we all get to expunge though.... going to make an effort for humour later.... I'm only at work for fuksox . . .
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 19:12, 2 replies)
I never...
did the same as others.
I think one day I said to myself
"Fuck everyone else, I'll do as I please."

Still do ^^

Sorry for being less then funny =)
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 18:54, 3 replies)
I am posting this
to try to fit in here.


I don't think it's working though.
(, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 18:32, 3 replies)

This question is now closed.

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