Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening? Welcome to Lager Time. This weeks episode features the second chapter of Way of the Kip - a short story about a frustrated young mans quest to find a decent nights sleep, tired of course, only to be told there is staff training about biases. A bit of a touch for young Reece. We left him just as the training was getting into nitty-the his gritty, having heared from collegue Bianca, who announced she had a great nights sleep. Reece is desperate to learn her ways, stay awake and not say anything stupid during the training. Story below - if you’re listening to the audio of this cree.substack.com to see the words For more Reece and New Town capers have a listen to a series I did a few years back called Young UnProfessional If you enjoy this, please consider subscribing in whichever medium you prefer. It all helps. Little music update - my latest rap EP - More 64s of Boredom - is almost done. Just need to mix the final two tracks then we’re good to go. About flipping time. That’s it for now Keep it Big out there, enjoy your weekends Paul Way of the Kip: A New Town Story CHAPTER 2 The dryness had come early. The first power point slide had nine bullet-points and only one picture. Some generic stock photo of a young East-Asian looking guy in a white shirt, sat in a chair in an office, being spoke to by an older white guy: arms-crossed, stood up, wearing a suit, no tie, top button undone. No sound or animation effects on the slides, what a waste. ‘So what do you see when see you this picture? Let’s discuss’ My mind had become fixated on this sleep conundrum. The mug-off from Priah. The tiredness. Bianca’s radiance. Diane’s bum. Boring Keith clapping. It was all related somehow. I was twiddling the biro in my hand, slumped in my chair. Had the thought that If I was to take the actual pen bit out from inside the plastic casing, then stick the casing in my mouth, like a blow-dart, with the other end in Bianca’s ear, I could siphon out some of her sleep powers. Short-term fix though. I’d probably end up sucking out four, maybe five, of her six braincells, then I’d be stuck in some endless loop of reality TV gossip and a montage of dull holiday photos. ‘The older man is probably is using the stereotype of Asian’s being good with computers, to get his computer to work, because he’s old and probably a bit racist, and doesn’t know to get on the internet.’ ‘Ok, thanks, Shaz is it? Yep, ok, that’s certainly a racial stereotype that many people of East Asian descent have to suffer with.’ ‘Don’t forget Kung-Fu and that. That’s a stereotype those lot have to face as well.’ ‘Thank you, erm….Pete?’ ‘Pete, yea.’ ‘Ok thanks, Pete, so what else do we see?’ Pete was trying. I had to chuckle. Priah gave me the side-eye and I heard Shazz tut. Probably thinking I was laughing with Pete. This annoyed me a bit. Shaz could be like that. Very judgemental. She once accused me of spilling a load of coffee in the kitchen. I don’t drink coffee. But then something awakened in me. This urge to speak, I had to get it out, there and then. ‘Wait. What about the old guy, though?’ I asked. ‘What do you mean, Reece? Explain for us.’ ‘Well, Shaz there has mentioned the possible stereotyping of the young man, presumably of East Asian descent, being good with computers. Fair enough, but what about Shaz’s stereotype of old people not knowing how to use technology? You never know, the old boy might be a tech-whizz. Maybe he’s the IT guy and the other guy is asking for his help.’ Shaz was screwing me. Bianca was backing her up. What? I thought it was a good point. Maybe I’d Just uncovered Shaz’s bias. ‘Ave that Shaz. You can’t fight bigotry with bigotry. As for you Bianca; lie down before you hurst yourself, maybe you can have a lovely restorative sleep whilst you’re there. ‘That’s a valid point, Reece. Stereotypes come in many forms.’ BOSH. That’s right. Thanks Monique. I was enjoying the validation. She continued. ‘So what do you think is going on in this picture? Tell us what you think, Reece.’ Silence. Shaz raised an eyebrow. Bianca smirked, Boring Keith placed his pen on the desk and smirked. Pete was miming a shovel digging into the ground, whilst smirking. Priah was writing something but shook her head. Everyone else was just looking at me, smirking. ‘I dunno. It could be anything. Maybe that guy sat down, like… owed the other guy a tenner… and now the Old Boy’s calling it in, but the other guy’s like… Oh I’ll pay you next week bruv…. but the old guys not having it because he’d already owed money from when they went on a bender the week before… but that night the Old Boy got a bit larey with the bouncers outside a club, he’d had a bit too much of the marching powder, so the guy sitting down had to intervene and maybe got slapped a bit, so then they both got barred from that club, because the old boy was giving it the big one…. but the guy sitting down is annoyed because he was moving to this girl in there that he really liked and like…’ ‘Reece stop it, you’re being insensitive, this is a serious discussion’ Pariah, again. What did I do? ‘But it could be anything though, that’s my point.’ I said ‘Just shutup Reece.’ Shaz intervenes. ‘But I was…’ That told me then. Shaz, 1-1. I’ll give her that. Monique came to my rescue and then threw me under the bus. Created an unnecessary problem then solved it. She should be a politician. Monique for PM, the Essential Skills Party. The ESP. ‘Ok thanks, err.. Reece… yes, you’re right it really could be anything. But not everyone is going to instantly think along the lines of what you just said, as you’ve had time to think about it. No I didn’t, I made it up on the spot, which I didn’t say. ‘Often, our judgements come from the unconscious, as opposed to the conscious, ultimately it speaks to our internal bias’s which we’re looking to interrogate here.’ The unconscious? Like un-concise-ness? Isn’t that a deep state of sleep? Why is she teasing me like this? I could do with some of that right now, what does that make me? Biased? Bigoted? Monique continued. ‘… But it’s interesting that you made the East Asian man, the one that owed the money, in this scenario, to the older white man…. what do you think that says?, Reece’ She must think I like it under the bus, where’s my greasy overalls? Priah turned her head to me. I just shrugged my shoulders in defeat. Must be biased. ‘I don’t know.’ I said. Fortunately Monique spared my blushes and moved it on. She went into some segment about the different forms of discrimination and provided a few examples where it had been prominent in the culture, like minstrel shows. Reminded me of my Nan having those figurines on the wall, above the telly. So my Grandparents were bigots, then? Too much Bovril in the fifties, unsalted gammon and mash potato. Classic bigot. In what was an exhaustive power-point slide, with no sound effects or animations, which included all sorts of TV and film references, I was disappointed that Blue Peter didn’t come up. Not that I thought that show was harbouring deep-rooted prejudices, I just felt like I needed a decent excuse for the irrational resentment I’ve always felt towards that melt-parade, it’s jarring presenters and their impossible to make DIY stuff – Tracey Island can be devastated by an earthquake for all I care. As if all you ever needed was a Corn Flakes packet, some Sellotape and a few felt-tips. Yea and the rest. It kept me awake at night. Like everything else. As the session wore on, all I could think about was sleep. And Blue Peter. And not making a plank out of myself in staff training sessions. Solving this sleep issue. Bianca’s great sleep. I had to talk to Bianca. Find out what her secrets were. I really needed a kip. If I could just have one decent kip. No, wait, learn the secrets of good kip technique. The way of the kip, like some Kung Fu film. That’s it, that’s the one. So long as I wasn’t sleeping well, the world was a worse place, full of bias swimming around, in like bile and brine and brandy. The soup of bias. Sounded like something from a French restaurant menu. Probably my unconscious talking there, again. Bigot. During the last part of the training, we all had to go round and say one thing that we were going to take away with us. Most people said more or the less the same thing – being more conscious of the unconscious biases that possibly allegedly affected their decisions. Guaranteed Pete would have a new batch of sexist jokes come Friday. Bianca said she’d be examining her thinking from now on. I was curious to know how her bigoted subconscious affected her choice of yogurt, or which dull sun destination she should go on holiday too. I gave it a bit of thought and concurred. ‘Yea, it’s given me lots to think about.’ I said. Like how to get a decent kip. I should’ve said ‘I’d sleep on it.’ Missed opportunity. To be fair, there probably was something in it all. We’re all a bit bigoted or have our biases, I guess. I still thought I was right to waive that that throw-in Gary’s game. That football pitch was a good fifteen-minute bop from my gaff. And it was raining. Back at my desk, I decided that I had resolve this sleep issue. There had to be some magic formula out there that I wasn’t aware of. I made it my mission to find some sort of cure that would lead me to sleep enlightenment. Or at least a decent eight hours. In my mind, this was starting to play-out like some Kung-Fu adventure film, where a warrior has to go on this quest to find some source of ancient Kung-Fu wisdom, kip wisdom, so they can learn from the Kung-Fu Kip master. A shadowy, wise figure has to point them on the quest though. The way of the kip. Suddenly the picture of the east Asian guy
