Jason Arnstein rants about The Metro

I’ve recently had an identity crisis. I’ve been trying to think the way that a woman thinks. Now, this isn’t to fathom the reason for a messy break up with an ex. Or to rationalize maternal abandonment issues. It’s infinitely more petty and stupid.

If your day job consists of working in an office, or indeed using public transport to get to said office, you’ve probably come across the widely available Metro newspaper. And as you may know, its letters page has its fair share of regular contributors and consists largely of people either complaining about commuting or debating whether they should bring back Spangles. There’s even a daily scribe called Yuri who spouts philosophical one-liners that imply one too many nights smoking a bong and watching The Learning Zone.

Anyhow, imagine my surprise one morning, to find a letter from Jason from Shawlands (which is where I live). It asked; “What do readers think of men in tights? I fancy myself as a bit of a Superman character and I look great in tights and a leotard. I suspect the girls I work with would like to see me in such attire as I am the office sex god.” Was it a coincidence? There must be other Jasons in Shawlands. Well not judging by the reaction when I got to work. All day I was serenaded by workmates singing the “Man of Steel” theme music. Which is particularly uncomfortable standing alongside others at the urinals. Were they waiting on a SuperPee, slicing the receptacle in two? The pubescent dream of X- ray vision, to see through into the Ladies?

Eventually I establish that a female colleague of mine, who would rather remain anonymous (DENISE) has been enjoying this flight of fancy at my expense.

Now my initial reaction was to rise above it. But when I think of the scrutiny that I’m now under every time I need, as it’s now called, a “Kryptonshite”, revenge seems a much sweeter option. But how to do it? I cam up with using her as a pseudonym and sending in my own letters. Obviously. Now the cheapest shot that you can take at someone, is about his or her appearance. Now there’s nothing particularly unusual about Denise. She’s ordinary. She does yoga. In the office a fan sits above her monitor and blows her long black hair back. Like a witch on a broomstick, on a broomstick….“Does anyone know of a dating agency for witches? I’m a single white witch, looking for a warlock! I have also harnessed the power of yoga, so can be bent into many different shapes.” Denise, Bellshill.

She took it in good humour. We were quits. Until the next day; “Do readers think that Babycham is an acceptable drink for a man? I am quite partial to it myself, being a suave sort of guy, but my mates laugh at me for drinking it and say it’s girlie. Why? It’s almost as nice as sherry” Jason, Shawlands.

So, we’ve moved on from the dressing up, and onto the drinking of effeminate tipples. Now I’m all man (I’ve had tests) but if a girl wants to take a dig at a straight guy, she will infer that he is gay. How can a guy respond? Well some women are sensitive about their age. Denise turned 35 during what I like to call our creative period, so I countered with “I’d just like to apologize for the recent wet spell. It was me who cast it. I’ve just hit 40 and people are giving me stick” Denise, Bellshill. And to cover myself, I also took on the guise of Jemima from Milngavie; “Jason: it’s perfectly acceptable for a man to try new drinks. You’re just showing your adventurous side. I work for a drinks company and our research has shown that guys who like to experiment are also killers “in the sack”.”

 So, now I’m backing myself up, as Jemima, while slagging Denise off, as Denise while Denise insults me, as me. Simple. But it hasn’t stopped. Last week; “I was sitting in my armchair, watching Big Brother. I felt a stirring in my loins at the sight of a fabulously attractive young lady. Imagine my surprise when she turned out to be Pete in drag. Did other readers make the same mistake?” Jason, Shawlands.

I’ve got to give it to her. She’s consistent. But it’s weird. There’s only so many ways in which I can pretend to be two women and get a woman, pretending to be me to pack it in. Have any readers been in a similar situation? Teresa, Coatbridge .