Tonight has been a very eventful night.
The first occurrence was when I lost my key. I don't know how I could have lost it, since I was only in my room for three minutes, and then spent the next forty minutes scouring my room. I'm pretty sure a friend of mine took it by accident, but for my luck, tonight's the night everyone's gone out clubbing at a club called Parksend. That just sounds depressing, am I right? "The end of parks." Poor children. No more parks...anyhow, it looks like I'm locked out until he gets back.
I walked into the JCR, expecting to find it empty, but instead I found three of my friends. It wasn't easy to find them, though, as they were buried under a mountain of paper. The three girls are going to be up until five in the morning to finish their essays. They'd only just started. They were better off than another friend of mine, though, in biochemistry, who has been working on one assignment for fourteen hours, whom I met during his brief dinner break, during which he informed me that he was going to be working for another nine hours. Yikes. That's almost twice the amount of work Maths and CompSci have had this week.
Anyhow, I wanted to find a way to help the girls, so I asked them if I could go out to Tesco's and buy them some food. They literally killed me. Like, literally, dudez. So I went down to Tesco's.
I've had two very interesting Tesco's experiences today. I went down a few hours earlier with some buddies and I got some rations. For those of you outside the UK, in Britain, they've got automatic service machines at supermarkets. Now that's cool. Next step to the Terminator movies live. It charged me twenty-eight pounds and I left with my friends. Then I stopped midstep when I asked myself the question, "Why did some muffins, some cereal, a small loaf of bread, and a pudding cup cost twenty-eight pounds?"
I had to wait for half an hour while they figured out exactly why they charged me twenty eight pounds for "Men's Knitwear" instead of fifty pence for a desert cup. Especially since Tesco's doesn't even sell "men's knitwear." Eventually they reimbursed me with a Tesco's gift card.
The second, and quite hilarious, experience was when I went to fetch food for the poor girls. I was looking for one of their requests, a chilled coffee, and I didn't know where it was. I saw a guy in a bright red three-piece suit and guessed he probably just sang in choir. He didn't look like he was drunk, though, so I said to him, "Hey, I know you don't actually work here, but would you happen to know where the chilled coffees are?"
He found that comment so amusing. "Work at Tesco's? Me?! Ha ha!" And then he adopted such an elegant, flamboyant persona, it was incredible. "Yes! Ha ha! I'm James Tesco! Welcome to my store! Let me show you around!" "Walk with me," he said suddenly, putting an arm around my shoulder and walking me through the aisles. "Let's go for a stroll. Ah! We've got pumpkins! Yes we do! Pumpkins that fit in your hand! Ha ha!" He was so amazingly in character that I just went with it.
A store worker walked by. "Excuse me, sir! Where is the coffee?" asked Mr. Tesco. "Downstairs." "Downstairs! I knew that, of course. He works for me. I was testing him. Right, down the stairs, to the right, and there's your coffee!" He left me nearly crying with laughter. He was such a funny guy, and the situation was so much like being Nick in The Great Gatsby when Gatsby takes him out in his shiny car into town that it was just perfect. I brought the provisions back to the girls and they were so grateful.
On the way to Tesco's, I found a student doing the drunk walk, so I helped him to bed before continuing on my courier quest. Good thing God put me there, because this guy could barely walk, and he kept babbling on about how he was going to get his mates and go out to Parksend. If you've ever tried to reason with a drunk person, you'll know that you can't. You just have to be firm but courteous, so they accept your help and don't get angry.
People have asked me why I don't drink. I've told them that I don't want to lose control, especially not at Oxford, and end up missing a lecture or hung over the next morning or something. And that's definitely part of it. But the fact is, I can't drink. I owe it to the friend I lost. I don't blame myself, I know that it would've happened no matter what I did, but I despite all my efforts, I wasn't able to help. Not enough. So now I owe it to him, whenever I see someone in need, someone who needs help, to help that person. Because if you don't help, then maybe no one will. To even drink one glass of beer, to make myself less than capable of helping others, would be an insult to his memory.
So I'd like to challenge anyone who's reading this blog. The next time you see someone in need, ask them if you can help them. The next time you see a stranger crying, sit with them and lay a hand on them. The next time you see someone having a bad day, do something to cheer them up. The next time you meet someone you care about, give them a hug. The next time you see someone hurting, ask them if you can pray for them. Because someone has to.
Stay safe,
John Khouri, Courteous Court Courier
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