Tutting and Huffing

When did you last have a good old tut to yourself? Recently, I’ve noticed that I’m tutting more and more. Either I’m becoming grumpy – or the world is becoming more tutworthy.

I tutted just this morning in Burnley town centre. A young woman walked past me pushing a pram, still wearing her pyjamas. I thought better of asking her if she’d lost her clothes, so I just tutted to myself and continued about my business.

Within minutes, I was walking behind a strutting young man whose gravity defying trousers were being held up inexplicably around his thighs. All I could see were the ‘Ramani’ underpants covering his buttocks. I had no choice but to stroll on a little further until I was out of earshot, before I finally gave a triumphant tut of sheer disapproval.

Just a little while later, by the 99p shop, I saw a young gentleman whose hands were stuck deep into the front of  his trousers. I can only assume that somebody had asked him what sex he was, and he had completely forgotten – so was curiously checking his genitalia with both hands. I tutted again, once I’d gone past and was a bit nearer to Greggs. I had half a mind to say “It’s not big and it’s
not clever.”

These tutting instances are becoming more regular. Am I becoming a bit of a grump? I’m not a massive fan of these telly shows where lots of grumpy middle aged folk bemoan the little things in life that they loathe. Yet here I am, acting like a bit of a Victor Meldrew and tutting at everything before me.

When I got in I asked my Facebook pals what kind of things had them tutting in the past twenty four hours, just to see if it was only me. I was quite surprised to see how many of my online chums were eager to tell me about their tuts – and I also learnt that one or two of them had even huffed! It was a relief to hear.

Generally speaking, I’m just a tutter – I haven’t huffed in ages. Huffs are more serious, and I believe that we should use them sparingly. In fact I remember me and a random lady were having a right old huff in the Clitheroe Post Office queue before Christmas, in a valiant attempt to try and get the waiting time down. It didn’t do much to speed up the staff or customers ahead of us, but we soon had other customers joining in. By the time I left it sounded like open day at the asthma clinic.

But back to my concern – that if we are partial to a tut, or even the odd huff – does that mean we’re getting old and bitter and twisted? Or is it a good idea to let out the odd noise of discontent? Well, I’ve done some research into this and it turns out that it’s perfectly normal, and we all do it –especially here in the north. Especially at temporary traffic lights.

A couple of examples of things that are likely to get us rolling our eyes and making exasperated noises include men peeing on the toilet seat. I’m no lady – but seriously, I can tut in sympathy at that. I’d go as far as to shake my head at that. I mean, come on guys – how hard is it to just lift the seat up and take aim? Who wants to sit down in small puddles of your wee for heaven’s sake?

Mind you, my old friend Vic was quick to point out that those badly fitted toilet seats that fall down as you are mid-wee don’t help the matter. In fact, those things have been known to make many a man spray on himself, probably resulting in a much, much harsher demonstration of displeasure than a mere tut. There are a great many things that get us going it seems, from drivers not indicating, to supermarket staff asking if we want a bag for our groceries. “No, it’s right; can you help me put them in my hood?”

But if, like me, you’ve been feeling guilty about tutting– rest assured, it’s perfectly acceptable. Just try and make sure that nobody is aware that you’re doing it, just to make it even more satisfying.