Mass Observation 2013: Ducks and Other Erotic Sub-Texts

Mass observation 

 In the distance a middle-aged man wearing a yellow high visibility vest, washes the floor with a pressure washer. A thin layer of mist floats into the air, being dragged away by the wind. The sun streams down and the water shimmers on the ground as the passing people try to avoid it.

A young man dressed in a blue shirt walks past, dragging a tall blue trolley filled to the brim with cardboard boxes and rubbish bags. As it passes through the puddle of water the trolley leaves two thin tracks behind.

Three trees stand separately looking frail and weak as the light breeze moves their branches making them sway and bend. An empty wrapper floats across the floor, scraping violently on the slabs until it is trapped against a wall.

As a group of people walk past one girl battles her way through to reach the bin, she casually throws her empty water bottle away and rejoins her friends running to catch them.

Written by Katie Thompson

 

Mary Holt's Mass Observation – The Hub (Downstairs)

 Two girls walk into the Hub. One is wearing a green jumper and the other girls is wearing a leather jacket. They walk over to a jewellery stall and try on some bracelets. The stall owner smiles at them and they engage in small talk. The girls leave the stall without making a purchase and walk to the cafeteria area.

 Three boys are sat at a table eating an early lunch. The boy in the Nike trainers is messing around with a Lukozade bottle. The other two boys get up to put their trays away and clear the table. The other boy follows throwing the bottle towards the bin. He misses the bin and goes to pick up the bottle and aims again. He gets it in. all of the boys sit back down at the table for a few seconds and then get up to leave.

 The woman at the clothes stall is showing another woman some of the ponchos on display. The woman focuses on one particular poncho (a brown leopard print one). The woman smiles and walks away.

 Two boys are at the ‘Grab and Go Bar’. The one that looks the most tired is telling the boy in the baby blue T-shirt about his excursions from the night before. He has a date with a girl named Sarah on Monday.

 A girl who is dressed very smartly walks from the entrance to the cafeteria to the upstairs part of the Hub while arguing with someone on the phone.

 There is less activity in the Hub although its occupants are talking rather loudly. There is a buzzing noise and when I turn around I see a young man in an electric wheelchair going past me and into McColl’s.

 A girl sits alone at a table staring towards Starbucks. She bites her pen before she begins to write. She puts her elbow on the table and uses her hand to rest her head on.

 A guy wearing a T-shirt saying “moths are just badboy butterflies” walks quickly past the jewellery stall.

 A man with long hair, a black jacket and a grey scarf walks into McColl’s and a few seconds later he walks out. He then heads towards the cafeteria to see what is in there and walks away again without getting anything. He walks past Starbucks, around the stairs and back into McColl’s he leaves the shop empty handed and walks to the nearest exit and leave the Hub.

 A girl in red Dr Martin’s is telling her friend about another girl who spilled a drink on her dress while at ta club the other day.

 A woman in a patterned maxi dress goes up to a member of the cleaning staff and asks for directions, the staff member uses hand gestures while giving the woman directions.

 A group of six people are sat at a table having a humorous conversation about a man’s misunderstanding with a policeman last week.

The news is on one of the television screens and the anchor is talking about the scores of a recent football match. There is a man who is the only person who appears to be watching it.

 A girl buys some hair extensions after complaining that her hair “is a state”.

 

The Library and The  Hub

Two tall, green leaved trees, blissfully ignorant of Autumn’s advancing presence, flutter in the unusually warm September breeze; their pointed finger tips delicately graze the seemingly dusty red bricks of the campus library with a certain natural elegance.

 Adjacent to the library, autumn’s elusive screwdriver can be seen at work, tweaking and loosening the invisible bolts that keep browning leaves rooted to the branches of their respective trees.

 Light breaths of wind wisp an array of autumnal colours into the air: crisp oranges and fruity reds dance and jive in an almost choreographed rhythm.  Gracefully, they glide to the ground with a stuck landing worthy of ten points. Silently and ever so gently, they settle on their grey, paved grave with a sound that’s too soft to hear. They crunch underfoot, a noise sadly exclusive to the colder months of Autumn and Winter.

 Mere metres below the library’s lush ever-green tree, natural elegance jarringly collides with social impropriety-bands of coffee-clutching students shuffle along glum faced and weary eyed taking regular swigs of over-priced black coffee to keep hangovers at bay; pale skin and jogger bottoms suggest that Starbucks isn’t quite the hangover elixir many thought it to be pre-purchase.

 The main hub isn’t quite busy yet, the day hasn’t begun for many at a raw 11am. The atmosphere is eerily quiet compared to Wednesday’s bustling Freshers’ fair. A que for the cash machine’s beginning to form though, more student loan being withdrawn to purchase precious but unperfected hangover elixir.

 The small square shop within, much like it’s exterior, is barely populated. A gentle flow of people make their way into the shop floor and consistently trickle out again like water from a stream. Hot dogs, surprisingly, appear to be a popular breakfast choice and, after last night, I must admit that they do look quite tempting.

 Harry Dungate

 

Untitled

 The sun smiles in a clear blue sky as a slight breeze cools the warm air. A blonde girl wearing blue skin-tight jeans and a white blouse walks languidly towards her destination. Her face white. No, literally painted white. She seems unaware of this fact, or she doesn't care. Noticing her friend in the distance, a smile breaks from her painted face. The friend moving much more enthusiastically, throws up her right arm and waves frantically. After a short time they unite and continue on their journey together, muttering words amongst laughter too quickly for me to comprehend. To my left, just past the trees, with their mobile branches and leaves singing in harmony with the wind, a cleaner carries two bags of waste in each arm, whistling his monotonous tune as he goes about his day-to-day tasks. The sun continues to smile, watching like I the events that transpire. A slight breeze cools the air.

 Brendan Quinn

 

An Observation

People are walking. People are talking. People are judging other people and others are completely ignorant to everyone around them. It's fascinating to watch an evolving species moving around in such basic protective circles. A gaggle of geeks pass by discussing the release of the first season of Arrow and one of the female members comments on the attractiveness of the male cast members.

I can vouch that the cast members are extremely attractive in that show, and also that one of the male members at the back of the group felt the same way, going by the grin he has on his face. This raises questions. Do the others know about his appreciation of the amazing physique of Stephen Amell or is he keeping that secret smile to himself and wondering when it would be the right time to nudge the girl and nod his agreement to her statement.

I hope he figures his stuff out, I mean, he's such a cutie, it would be a shame if he didn't open up and try to bag the messy haired, glasses wearing hipster who was also part of the geek group. Trust me, no-one with dress sense like he has is anything but gay. And with the looks he's getting from our 'Stephen Amell Fan-club President' I wouldn't be surprised if everyone else figures it out soon enough.

Wow, looking back over what I've previously written I have in fact lived up to the statement of 'you can find homo-erotic subtext in everything'. I need to stop with the fan-fiction and watching repeat episodes of Queer as Folk, homo-erotic subtext is becoming a real issue.

Charlotte Dunnell

Mass Observation

The Laundry Room

 

The Laundry room after a week of Freshers was bound to be full of new student who hadn’t probably seen a washing machine before in their whole life until now.

 Mostly girls, dressed in casual clothing, one wearing black leggings and bright blue converse sits on the floor leaning against a washing machine parallel to the one I suspect contains her clothes. She sits there watching it spin, hypnotised.

A few more girls come in and see the top-up machine is out of order, they stare blankly at the poster contemplating their knowledge of the English language, doubting the truth of the ‘Sorry for any inconvenience’ message.

  One girl with orange hair and a denim jacket is putting her washing in to a machine that I know doesn’t work. It pleases me to see people trying to figure out the machine. She kept inserting and reinserting her card in to the machine, ignoring or at least oblivious to the sound of it beeping in error.

Colin Smith

 

The Morning After

Walking along the paths of my new university, I found myself in a zombie-like state, unable to think properly, unable to process what was going on around me, and I even struggled to keep my eyes open. I was on my way to one of my first lectures, suffering from an immense hangover that was caused by last night’s antics of too many ‘liquid confidence’ shots, when I actually started to take in what was going on around me.

To my right was a student who appeared to still be in his pyjamas that he had received off his favourite granny when he was just a boy as he clung to his new purchases of fruit juice, paracetemol and a bag of Doritos. I guess I wasn’t the only one who felt like I’d been hit by a bus.

As I rounded the corner, something shameful caught my eye, and I when I turned my head to look, I noticed that I wasn’t the only one staring in complete shock. Two girls were stumbling across the path (barefoot I should add) in what appeared to be last night’s clothes, hairstyles and makeup.

The bags under their eyes informed us as the audience that they had a very late night indeed and with the way their kept their heads low and held onto each other for support completely gave it away that this was in fact an embarrassing walk of shame.

Sure, we students get up to all sorts of mischief and get into a lot of trouble from time to time but I never really expected university students to be daft enough to publicly display their behaviour, and just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, one of the girls collapsed to the floor before spewing up what looked like everything she had eaten for the past week.

I couldn’t hide my disgust any longer, so I quickened my pace and headed into the direction of my class, while promising myself that I would never let myself get so intoxicated that I would be in a similar position to the two classy girls who were out decorating campus with their vomit.

Megan-Grace Meeson 

Mass Observation

Taking it all in

I’m sat on a bench, the sun is shining, the wind is blowing, people are laughing and all I can think about is “where the hell am I tomorrow?!”. I mean, the way we have to figure out when and where we are is pretty hectic. You’d think the timetables could have just been posted online as well, you know, to make it easier on the commuters? But noooooo, technology is frowned upon! Why should it be made easier for new students? Well the idea is just ridiculous!

Anyway, I’m sat on this bench, observing people as they walk past. A bird chirps by me, it’s brown with spots and has an adorable little beak and head. One man walks past and I think “oh dear” as he is wearing leather on leather with sunglasses and a big buckle belt. It makes me wonder what goes through someone’s mind when they put together an outfit such as that. Now I’m not particularly fashionably myself but I know where the lines are so I don’t cross them into just “plain wrong”. Taking my eyes away from the fashion victim, my eyes roam over the scenery before me.

This place is beautiful. Manicured, sure, but still nice to look at without thinking “overdone”. The hedges are trimmed and green, despite it being autumn now. Only the trees show the changing of the seasons. Their leaves are spotted with different shades of browns and reds, littering the ground every time a wind blew by. The lake is a decent size, homing ducks, odd little red beaked birds and rabbits. Rabbits! Honestly I never expected their little fluffy grey heads to live on a university campus.

A bush rustles by me quietly and then the trees join in the chorus, gratefully drowning out the student’s rabble.  I sit, quietly, and feel content where I am. I feel the soft caress of the breeze on my cheek, slightly lifting my thick, unruly hair off my shoulders. It feels nice. It helps me ignore the ramblings going on in my mind, the insistent questions and nervousness that accompanies starting a new university. I let my mind wonder and I start to imagine what the university must look like in winter. White wonderland. Then I think about how I’m going to be spending the next three years here and all the good (and bad) memories I’m going to make. Expectant hope blooms in my chest and I smile.

Pamela Coughlan