Chat Time
I like a good chat. It can be the thing which elevates my day from bad to good, and what’s more it is FREE! (That said, if there was a reputable chat service which guaranteed me happiness then I might give it a go. And let’s clarify: when I say ‘happiness’ I mean putting a smile on my face by the processing of a conversation about birds of prey or the latest film, and for a price somewhat less than you pay when dialing a dodgy number found on a card in a phone box in London.)
But there are limits to the chat thing, of course. For example, I can stomach a chat with a hair-dresser no problem, but I don’t want a chat on the bus or while I am walking down the street minding my own business. That’s not quite right. But, here’s the thing. There are people out there who are looking exactly for this. You’ll find them in queues, at train-stations, and generally at places which are already stressful. And I think this strange breed of lonely people know this, you see. I think it’s part of the design. They know that by catching you here your defenses will be down: they will, as a consequence, be able to babble at you for minutes on end and you won’t stand a chance!
I have developed several techniques for dealing with these people. To begin with they consisted mainly of jerky four letter words strung together in an intentionally violent way, and then they evolved into more of a system; that’s the key, you see. You need a system. This breed are too used to violent words. For best results find their weakness—if they are looking at trains lustfully then attack trains and call them rubbish—and cave it in!
So I have finally been paid for that last photography job that I did, you all know what that means, it’s about time to hit the mall and pick up that new pair of asics running shoes that I have been waiting to get. Lynne, are you up for a treck into London this weekend?