There is a cure to the Coopers Disease!
You are well aware by now of what I think of Coopers, and it is a view shared by several people I know who attend the school. But much as they hate it too, some of them still suffer from the Coopers Disease.
There are several symptoms, but not all may be present, and some exist in people naturally.
- All-encompassing egotism
- Natural intelligence, often accompanied by a sporty flare or the ability to play an instrument
- An air of presumed supremacy
- The potential to be a real wanker
Now don't get me wrong, I have some good friends at Coopers, or who went to Coopers, and it was seeing a friend who had left Coopers on Friday that prompted me to write this.
Let's call him Bob, and his youger brother Bill. I'm not sure how much they'd appreciate me writing this with their real names. Anyway. I met Bob nearly 3 years ago at orchestra, and could tell quite quickly that he went to Coopers. He was much better than I could ever hope to be at music, he was condesending to anyone he didn't like and had it in him to be a total tosser. I wasn't on the receiving end of anything more than a few funny comments, but it was easy to guess what he'd be like to someone he wanted to make cry. His ego wasn't all-encompassing, but it was quite hefty, and I did feel looked down upon when I first met him.
His brother was much less so of all that. People make jokes and pick on us younger siblings, but it was your mistakes we learnt from, not our own. But Bill: at Coopers, yes, naturally intelligent, yes, tosspot, no. He was still slightly afflicted, but more in the way the French Resistance happened to speak French. There was nothing else he could really have been, going to the school and all that. I talked to Bill much more than Bob, and we both knew that when Bob and the rest of our breaktime group left, we'd be the only two left.
For two years, then, there was the group of us, about 8 in total I think. Me and Helen, Bill and Bob, a girl who had been to and left Coopers because she hated it, and another girl who was from the school the first girl transferred to, and a few others beside. Confusing, huh? It was good, though. At breaks, we'd sit about in the canteen, eat Galaxy bars and complain about all manner of stuff and rubbish. They were mostly Helen's friends, as she'd known them longer, except Bill, who we'd known for the same amount of time. But it was nice, a refreshing change from all the bitching at school.
As with all things, it came to an end. Last year we waved off Bob and both girls as they left for university, and Helen departed for full time work. Bill and I were left to our own devices on Monday evenings in the college, eventually finding a decent spot in the stairwell by the door, muttering "Freaks!" to each other at anyone who gave us a funny look as they walked past.
A whole year passed of this, interspersed with illness and exams, until the concert the other day.
Every 2 years, we take part in a concert in the Queen Elizabeth Hall on London's South Bank. It's all very fancy: black and white dress, boys in bow ties and conductors in their finery. We go up there in the morning, practise during the day, and perform in the evening. All time in between is our own, so we usually play cards.
Friday wasn't much different. We played rummy, trumps, beggar my neighbour, Montana reddog, cheat, chase the ace and a few others. For the rest of the time, we sat about chatting. For some reason, I ended up spending near the whole day with Bill and Bob, and it was in this time that I realised the cure for Coopers Diesease...
Go to university!
Gone was the condescending, self-important occasional arsehole, leaving behind the person I only suspected existed... which was a nice surprise.
Could this miracle cure work for everyone, though? Will all that twattishness be drained away when they face the big wide world? There are some key points to note here:
- Bob hated Coopers. He would moan about anything and everything about the school, and cheered when vandals did the place over one night.
- Though I didn't know him before prior to his time there, I think the school gave him his pompous edge and wankerish behaviour. He probably wasn't a bad sort before he went there.
- He couldn't wait to leave. He used to talk about university loads and how good it was going to be paying a mere £1 a pint in the student union bar.
So was it a case of the patient having to be willing to receive the treatment for it to work? I don't know, as his is the only case I've seen, but I think it may well be. If you're born a wanker, you're a wanker for life. If you become a wanker, there may be a chance that you can be a nice person again, as demonstrated by Bob.
And as for Bill? He applied for a load of different colleges, but his parents want him to stay on at Coopers 6th Form. But fear not, he's already got plans for the place, some including fire, others including silly string.
Mwahahaha!
