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Ineptitude

For the majority of my day today ineptitude has followed me around like a rabid puppy, that’s right I said puppy. Because the inept trot along, wagging their tails and smiling whilst a life-threatening slavering bight waits behind that toothy smile. Sound familiar? I bet it does, because apparently you can find this ineptitude in all walks of life; from the grinning estate agent, to the all teeth and a wink boss, and the guy who will paint such a smile on his face just so he can buy you a drink. You can bet that they are all inept.

I’m not in the business of producing libel, in fact you may say I’m inept at it. So, just to clarify I’m sure there are some people such as those I have listed above who are perfectly good at what they do, and despise ineptitude as much as I do. I, however, am yet to meet these people.

So, today has brought be into contact with three particular moments of professional ineptitude that has left me wondering if I have missed something. My supposed boss, although we’ll see how long this arrangement lasts, seems unable to figure out that a college will not be done with teaching in June and that booking of desired rooms in said college should perhaps be done a little earlier than a mere two weeks before you need them. An estate agent seemed oblivious to the fact that it is generally good practice to not advertise a property as ‘to let’ unless you do actually intend on letting it, and a property website seemed to confuse my property search in Brighton with one in York and Stourbridge. Yesterday it believed I wanted to live in Liverpool.

When I sat down to think about it I realised that I am often irritated by various levels of incompetence and displays of ineptitude. Perhaps it’s that I have turned middle-aged, or even old-aged, before my time and thus feel entitled to grumble about everything, but no; I now believe ineptitude to be the condition of the modern (or postmodern depending on your point of view) human being.

More and more we are relying on modern technology to do our jobs for us, and if not that then at least somebody else. So perhaps gradually, slowly but surely, technology is stealing away our brain power making us completely unable to think or function for ourselves. At least that would seem to be the case with a lot of people I come into contact with; but then who am I to talk, I spent the majority of my day interacting with some form of modern technology. Well, perhaps I’ll put an end to that. I don’t want to become one of the brain dead inept…

…except we all know I’ll most likely blog again tomorrow, and be on twitter within the next five minutes. A more favourable theory for all involved is, then, that the Inept is actually the name (note the capital I) of some Dr-Who-ian monster that is secretly invading our lives. If we work out how to fight it, probably with some sort of technology, then estate agents will know when to let houses again and the world will be restored to order. For now, if you are unfortunate enough to come into contact with one of these inept then please call our helpline on 555-555 and you will be held in a queue for at least three hours.

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