In my post on seeing Yasmine Hamdan, I talk about the audience, as it is one of the standard questions for the ‘Nights Out’ posts that we have on here. I was able to go into some detail, because I set out to chat to those around me. Getting to know a little about their life stories, why they came to the concert, made the whole evening a friendlier event than if I’d turned up, nursed a couple of beers, watched the band, then left, like a Smiths lyric. I’ve done that too many times in the past, and it’s so dispiriting. This time, though I didn’t spend all the evening chatting, I had broken the social distance barrier, and there was no bristling at strangers. We had made a connection. I’ll probably never see those people again, and at the end I left on my own, but I enjoyed the familiarisation.
This post is prompted by a Guardian article (attached), which explores the idea of talking to people in public. It revisits some of the many ideas in an excellent book by Joe Keohane (The Power of Strangers), which was one of the catalysts for me to be more bold in starting conversations with new people. I’m curious about whether any of yous talk to people you don’t know in public.
This being the AW, in a sense, most of us are strangers to each other, never having met most others face to face, (or even video screen to video screen), in the years/decades we’ve been on the site. So we do talk to strangers. Sometimes it feels comments on posts are isolated fireworks that spark, then fall, and that’s ok. Other times, they can provoke a whole chain reaction of further subthread interaction. Threre’s a certain safety in the anonymity of t’Internet – you can check out any time you like (we all miss Moose).
This being the AW, also, the gig-going experience will be common to many of us, so that may be a jumping-off point. But I’m curious to learn from your experiences of talking or not talking to strangers in any context.
Have at it, if you like!
I do and I don’t. Being an introvert with an extrovert’s job, I mostly avoid talking to strangers (I mean outside of my work, where I do an awful lot of talking to strangers), unless I have information that I notice that they need, or need to get information myself.
But other people very often start talking to me – in other shops, at bus stops, in the metro or the street. And then my “work persona” kicks in and I chat to them in a friendly way (especially if they’re older) even though Id probably rather stand silent in my own thoughts, but I don’t mind too much as I’m used to it.
I have two theories about why people often start conversations with me. One is that I’m usually not stressed and I don’t have a mobile phone so I’m not staring down, scrolling.
The other is what I’ve heard people tell me; that I have kind eyes (whatever that is – it’s probably just a side effect of not being stressed).
But I don’t think I’ve talked to anyone at a gig, other than giving or receiving some information about where to find the toilets or the bar or something. Can’t say I’ve missed it either!
Thanks, Locust. I used to think I was an introvert, until I discovered my extrovert side, that can be a bit clownish to overcome the uncertainties of approaching others. I can get energy both from being on my own and from socialising, though sometimes big groups still feel me out.
Part of the skill in opening conversations with others is recognising when it’s not wanted, or just tolerated. I hope I’m sensitive enough to back away politely.
Sometimes. I used to do some canvassing and quite enjoyed chatting to people, but generally I don’t really like small talk and used to hate business “social” events where you have to pretend the people you work with are your friends. In “Watching the English” Kate Fox notes that we don’t chat to strangers unless something annoying is happening, like the train grinding to a halt or there’s a massive queue for something, then we happily have a grumble. But the minute normal order is achieved we retreat behind the newspaper/ gaze at crap on the phone etc and completely ignore everyone else.
Thanks, Twang. I get that, what feels to me like the small talk/artificial interface, where I’m desperately trying to think of something to say/ask to keep the conversation from flagging. I wonder if it was the canvassing that made conversations more enjoyable – a given set of topics, prompting responses.
Business social events can be a hassle, code switching with the same person with whom there’d normally be flat work-based interactions.
Default silence does seem to be the most efficient and English way.
If at a seated gig, I often make some polite contact with my neighbours, as much to demarcate barriers as break them. Sometimes this has a mutually desired effect of subsequent silence, others can spark off enervating conversations. I tend to be present on my tod, so it varies on my mood. As I am often taking notes during the show, people often ask me about that.
There is something about a seated gig – you are there to witness what is happening on stage, and chat during the performance is usually not possible or encouraged. Mutually desired effects can be charming – we both know why we are here, and there’s no need to feel the silence between us is awkward – our attention is elsewhere.
More than I used to. Where I live now is chattier than our last town, even though it’s only 20 miles away. Or maybe it’s because I’m poking 60 with a short stick and drifting into the ‘harmless old bloke’ category that women, and it is mainly women, have short conversations with in the queue at Tesco or wherever. I’m strongly introverted but enjoy those short exchanges. I find them easier and less draining than longer chats with people I know, especially in groups.
It may be a superficial impression, but my feeling is that Colchester is much more embedded in East Anglia and the rural environs than Chelmsford. That distance down the A12 takes you just a little bit further from the London influence.
Short chats with strangers are often easier than strained conversations with people who I’ve known superficially for a long time – I should know more about you than I do, but I don’t and our previous encounters have been unsatisfactory, so this will probably follow that pattern. Making a fresh start can be awkward, but sometimes brings rewards.
I’ve been invited to a school reunion (60 years on from starting secondary school) and I think that “strained conversations with people who I’ve known superficially for a long time” will probably occur if I decide to go. The friend from those days I got back in touch twenty years ago isn’t going and we can talk about different things. I met another and it seemed his only topic of conversation was what we’d got up to at school and the conversation flagged.
I met someone last year at a funeral who I’d been in the scouts with and we managed to have a reasonable conversation.. I met him recently at a party and conversation started well but then trying to think of new things to say proved difficult for both of us.
I’m hoping to have a video call with my cousin who I haven’t spoken to in a decade. There are so many gaps in our recent histories, that in a sense it is like meeting someone who is at least in part a new person.
I find the sense of connection over time being similar to over distance. A few metres away and the connection is still there. A few miles and the connection needs renewal for continuity. Another city or country, and the experiences had are so separate that the person is becoming someone other than you knew last time you were together. For some, even a few metres of separation can mean renewal is needed.
It can work. In 2022 I went back to the town where I spent my teens for my father’s funeral and arranged to meet 4 friends from my mid 80s sixth form days. The only contact I had had with any of them since was through Facebook.
Before meeting in a pub one asked if he could meet earlier (not possible as we spent the afternoon out of town) and another said he might not be able to stay long because he had an early start planned the next day. Reading between the lines I think both might have been planning an exit if the conversation was strained.
In the event we had a great night talking about youthful escapades, and even the guy who had ‘an early start’ planned was there with the rest of us at chucking out time.
Is that the Thirsk School Reunion? My brother will be going to that, as he was in that year. Or maybe you are my brother -in which case “Hi Stuart!”
I’ve been invited to several school reunions but have always declined. The recent ‘Lord Of The Flies’ series evoked uncomfortable memories of boarding school in the 60s so I feel even less inclined to go.
Yes and no – if in the mood. Mum was a teacher and Dad sold life insurance so there’s chat there.
I chat more now than before – less grumpy perhaps. I was at Hot house Flowers on tod and started chatting to a couple next to me. Prob 30 years younger. They had no idea who Hothouse Flowers were. Turns out Liam had bought an aboriginal painting from them that day and gave them tickets. A conversation on aboriginal art ensued.
Mrs Wells was in sales and is chatty so that make it easier to converse too.
That sounds great and spontaneous, JW. These chats can take off in unexpected directions.
As I’ve become older I do make small talk, rather than make conversation, with strangers. I have a stammer which I can keep at bay most of the time, though it’s a lottery based on situation and mood. All the same I’ve noticed that over the past five years or so I’ve become less self conscious about it. It must be to do with age and an acceptance of things.
Anyway, yes. I do talk to others I don’t know. For brief moments similar to those already described; on station platforms or in queues etc. My wife and daughter have noticed a tendency in my signing off any of these short moments with some inane Dad-ism. ‘These things are sent to try us!’ ‘What won’t kill you makes you stronger’ and so on. All to sound jolly and un-threatening I suppose which again must be to do with my age.
I love your inane Dad-isms – quite endearing as there is a certain meta-self-awareness about them. The truisms of life that don’t need pointing out, but can be smiled at if they are.
I haven’t been to California for many years now, but one of the things I remember most about it is the sheer number of strangers who would start up a conversation with me anywhere. On the bus, in the record shop, while waiting at the pedestrian crossing – anywhere.
Where I live now, people are generally very friendly and strangers will often exchange a “buongiorno” as you pass in the street. Sometimes it happens that they’ll strike up a chat, especially fellow dogwalkers, but being deaf now I can’t really engage in conversation and usually just stand around looking gormless while my companion does all the talking. I confess I don’t really mind as I find small talk boring. Though standing around looking gormless does get a bit boring too.
Yeah, America. I was there 30 years ago, and the relaxed uninhibited approach to talking to others was contextually very appealing. It never really left me and re emerged through various prompts towards being more proactive.
In Germany, I can carry off a conversation ‘in der Sprache’ if I’m on my own, but if with one of my more fluent family members, I STF up and let them do the talking, for fear of embarrassing everyone with my mangled grammar, vocabulary and inappropriate use of Sie/du. Gormlessness is me quite often.
I’d kind of like to in some ways but since the sudden onset deafness (in my right ear) I had nearly 23 years ago now it’s become something I sort of subconsciously avoid. Yes, I was offerred a hearing aid at the time but never really persevered with it. In some ways it’s been kind of manageable in some settings-work and family gatherings etc usually meant I could often get through with some tactical “where’s it best for me to sit” type thinking-but pubs, restaurants and gigs are a real problem because of the background noise. In fact, this last New Year’s Eve was a bit of a last straw. We were with a couple of very good, very understanding friends in a pub, watching a soul/blues band, and it was possibly the most isolating, tiring, dispiriting feeling I’ve had for years, because I realised for the first time that the normal, older age hearing loss I am also now starting to get (most people do) is just making things worse. As a result I’m now about to get an NHS hearing aid for my right ear, which I am hoping will help. I know it’ll take perseverance, but although I was always a bit on the shyer side I just want to be the normal responsive bloke I used to be.
My wife has hearing aids and the latest NHS ones are as good or better than the first private ones she had 10 years ago. Don’t be afraid to go back and get them tweaked a couple of times. She does hers through Specsavers now, despite being NHS aids and they’re really helpful.
Yes, I’ve heard some very positive things about the NHS aids, and feel quite optimistic about the whole idea. Plus, I’m 59 this year and care much less about the thing being visible!
My wife gave in a couple of years ago after resisting for ages and now has hearing aids – frankly it’s made my life a whole lot better! They are so good as well – controlled by a phone app, she can adjust the direction, which is great at gigs, and also obviously the volume and so on. A game changer – good luck @Nick-L !
Thanks @NigelT , I’m really hoping it’s going to be a game changer!
My mum needs an upgrade. Which aids are best?
What would Luke do?
I tried a pair and they were OK but music was pretty thin, scratchy. I went with some Phoneaks where the Bluetooth has been a game changer, although the sound remains a bit lacking in richness.
If you go privately your mum should be able to try some out, and decide what suit her best. Not cheap – easy to spend £3k or more but the NHS aids I’d had before were more basic, and there was no choice.
I never really took to hearing aids. Cos I have pesky tumours on the acoustic nerve, there’s already pressure coming from inside the ear, plus tinnitus, which I found hearing aids made worse. Also I wasn’t keen on the sound via hearing aids – I found it a bit metallic and any “click” type sounds were too clear. But most of all, I was just too darn lazy to bother putting them in. I preferred just using a transcription app on my phone as it was quicker and easier. Recently, however, I bought a pair of Captify smartglasses. I love them. They’re not much good outside in the light, but inside they’re great. Plus they allow me to pretend to myself that I’m a high-tech spy in James Bond movie.
Yes. In fact, I’m doing it right now.
Even now?
Nah, I’m just being facetious. We’ve all known each other on here for a long old time these days.
I do absolutely love talking to strangers though. Didn’t used to, until I eventually realised that virtually everyone you meet knows at least one fascinating and useful thing that you do not, and that the whole game is trying to figure out what that thing is by asking lots of questions.
I have made peace with the face that I am revoltingly extrovert. I absolutely love people, and cannot go anywhere without chatting to them. I also have a tendency to accelerate straight past small talk to deep and meaningful, which is probably irritating but leads to lots of new friends (or at least weeds out the ones it would never work with).
Without my friends I’d be absolutely nowhere, and people don’t become my friends unless I talk to them.
Your (untypically) few words were rather cryptic, so I was trying to crevice a bit more of of you. I actually thought you were doing a bit of multitasking reportage “as I type/swipe this, I am simultaneously talking IRT to some stranger”.
On here, many of us do know each other, which is of course delightful – we can play each other like well-tuned instruments.
That you are an extrovert comes as no surprise, and is to your credit. There’s a big old world of people of there, and the sooner you get stuck into conversing with them, the sooner you find out more about things of value. I’ve left it late, but it’s never too late.
What I really wanted from Bill Murray’s Groundhog Day was that thing he did in the restaurant, where he knew everybody’s life story. Sure, it would have been at times tedious going through the centuries it may have taken to get to that level of knowledge, but after going through that cycle of frustration, despair, cynicism, malevolence, and boredom, I like to think he emerged with a transcendent love for all the people that he must have known so well, especially the one who made a funny noise when she got excited….
Where was I? I dunno. Thanks for your contribution, BL – a far more deserving beneficiary of that acronym than British Leyland…
Yes. All the time.
There are a lot of Hong Kong Chinese near me now. I strike up conversations with them all the time. When I go to the football, my offspring get annoyed with me for thanking the security staff on the way out when we are rushing to get home. Lots of them are in the same spots every match. I’m on first name terms with at least ten of them.
Enjoy the match on Monday? I did. 😉
Win, lose or draw, I love going to the match.
🫤
Strangers have previously decided to talk to me and I have found that they can turn out to be tedious bores or maybe bigoted, wanting to impose their obnoxious views, likewise with religion. Hence I am wary. On holiday we sometimes start talking to other travellers and that can be nice but then we often find they become tiresome as well, being driven to tell you all about the area you are in and where you should go and how they come here every year and are buddies of all those who own local businesses. You might say, well they are just being helpful but no it becomes clear that this is about taking control and diminishing our own thoughts and opinions. Soon you find yourself avoiding their presence, seeking places where they don’t go. I like people who laugh at my humour, if that happens then we are fine. I don’t really want to hear the story of your life. If we can share a joke then that works.
I think a good conversationalist should be able to listen at least as well as they can speak. Without doing that, how can people tune into what a shared conversation? It’s just a monologue otherwise.
I do it a lot. It could help that I used to teach, but I also trained as an interviewer and talked to people a lot as a Business Analyst in my work life. Does being on the radio help too..? I love striking up conversations.
I think an anticipation of pleasure in conversation lights up the other person – as an interviewer I guess the training involves actually listening to what is said and feeding back on that? Empathetic listening like that is surely a winner.
I’m always doing it, and I’m happy that I can. I nearly always enjoy the experience, it’s rare that anyone cuts me off and makes me wish I hadn’t. I’ve often had friends remark that, “You’ll talk to anyone, you will”, and say it as if it’s an affliction. Their loss.
Good for you, VV. If the Joe Keohane book taught me anything, it’s that talking to strangers is a window into another world – you literally get to experience their perspective if you pay attention to it.
I went to my pal’s funeral yesterday. The village café closed for the day so that the entire staff could go. Trish was in there every day and could – and would – talk to anybody. I’ve never seen a funeral service where there was standing room only at the back.
The takeaway was “Be more Trish”. I’m going to try, but it won’t come easily.
Broadly no. I grew up in a small town where everyone knew each other’s business and I really disliked that. “Mike said he saw you going up such and such road on Thursday evening, what were you up to?” etc etc. I didn’t have anything particular to hide, just disliked having to justify my every move.
Live in a big city now where I enjoy the anonymity, and usually wear headphones when I’m out and about. I hope(!) that I’m good company with people I know, but really I’d just rather be left alone.
I remember a big discussion on Twitter a few years back when Caitlin Moran’s book about men came out. The premise was that women are good at making new friends in adult life, and men are not. I would argue that it’s more that I’m not interested; I’m perfectly capable of being polite, will always say ‘thank you’ in shops etc, but I have a small circle of close friends, I don’t need any more.
I only dipped into that book, but God it was annoying. The drift was, ‘Everything would be alright for everyone if they only thought exactly like me’.
I live in a small village, and it’s entirely possible that someone, maybe in the shop as I buy a loaf or some milk, will say something along similar lines, “You were rushing along towards the pub the other day, what was the hurry?” and it’s the perfect opportunity for some mischievous creative lying…
“Bob Dylan was in the snug having a Guinness and I thought I’d get his autograph while he was here.”
I was a very shy and rather odd child, happy with my own company and frequently alone, my nose buried in a book or scribbling drawings onto any available piece of paper. Pretty much as my life is now come to think of it. I was very badly bullied at school which didn’t exactly help to socialise me but art school changed everything. It inverted my world. Suddenly I was surrounded by very similar young people, all invested in the very same things I loved so much, art, books, music. Finally I had people outside of my mam and dad that seemed to understand me and didn’t want to ridicule me or beat me up. I had found the keys to heaven and I blossomed. From that time I have never found it difficult to talk to anyone. I am now the polar opposite of that shy, introverted oddball I used to be so many years ago. I hope everyone who meets me finds me approachable and friendly because I am entirely that and will happily talk the hind legs off a donkey. My late wife maintained that I could make friends anywhere in any set of circumstances due to my ability to strike up a conversation at the drop of a hat but she met me after my transformation and had never met the shy, frightened little boy I used to be.
It’s very liberating when you find your tribe isn’t it.
It was transformational for me. It took a little time but I made some good friends during my foundation year. We were a collection of oddities but somehow we all seemed to fit together.
I have a small group of friends I’ve had for over 40 years and to whom I am fiercely loyal. Hardly anyone local, sadly.
I have lost touch with everyone I met at art school all those long years ago. I know a few have subsequently died, others have just disappeared. I’ve tried finding some of them via the net but to no avail. I have one old friend that I see or speak to on the phone on a weekly basis. I live a very solitary life. I seem to be living through my final years in much the same way that I spent my early years. Maybe that’s how it’s meant to be for me.
Many of my friends are elsewhere, living in 5 different countries (so far) over a lifetime takes it’s toll, still in touch with most of the close friends I have made though, that would have been pretty much impossible in pre internet days
e.g. a guy who lived 10 min walk away from me in my hometown now lives 800km away in Detroit, we see each other every year. We have been friends for about 58 years, he was born 7 days before me
I’m the same. Two old school pals,and then a firm dozen or so from my first few years in London. When we were young and daft.
We’ve all moved on and away from each other physically, some to different countries. All married and familied. But we all love each other deeply. The get togethers, when they happen, are memorable.
Same here. Two of my pals are in Australia, one in Germany, one in Austria, two a good drive away and one died suddenly last year. We stay in touch and try to meet up every summer -ish.
I was at an Eliza Carthy concert on Saturday, I got into conversation with a lady whose husband had been the principal of Scarborough sixth firm college. It appears he’d had Martin Carthy and Norma Waterson, Eliza’s parents, and told them she was going to fail as all she wanted to do was sing and they should let her. There’s always something new to learn from strangers, though sometimes you just want to read or put headphones on and listen to music.
I think that flexibility of approach is important – sometimes approachable, sometimes not, but having the skillz for both. I think the label of ambivert applies,
Over twenty years in France and I still find making small talk to strangers difficult. Bit chilly today, did you see the rugby yesterday and that’s about it. Back in the UK I so love chatting away to shop assistants, guy next to me in the queue, beautiful young lady in the pub (my case comes up next week), anybody in fact ….
When I lived in France people use to talk to us because they liked our Brit accented French.
They like me cos I’m Scottish, especially when we beat England at rugby. Still doesn’t make small talk in French any easier. Politics is a no-go: half the village is communist, the other half vote for Le Pen. A minefield I avoid. Instead “Plus de pluie, s’il vous plaît., les vignes n’en peuvent plus. Je préfère Ricard à Pernod, et vous ? Je dois y aller, mon chien est très malade.”
Good plan. One nice local chap I’d bavarde with would pour out invective about the “Muselman* which I would try to dodge completely.
It’s interesting that the ‘global relational recession’ described in the Graun article coincides with the rise in social media. As we have become less inclined to interact with each other in the real world, so we have become much more likely to share thoughts, opinions and abuse with people we have never met from the safe distance of a keyboard. That lack of respect and abuse has now crept into our real world interactions, affecting everything from our politics to our day-to-day discourse. It’s a sad state of affairs to be sure.
So no, I don’t talk to strangers much, though as I’ve got older I at least have a bit more courage to do so when the occasion arises.
People in Canada are generally very friendly and approachable so it’s pretty easy to talk to strangers. And I have mistaken interest and curiosity in me from the opposite sex as being perhaps the starting point to become less than strangers. No, they were just being friendly like they are to everybody (most of the time)
Right on cue I went to a supermarket last night after work and a not completely unattractive woman with 6 cans of Heineken in her hands came up to me and asked me about the merits of “buying Canadian” when it came to beer. I resisted the temptation to pour scorn on her potential purchase but pointed out a vast range of excellent Ontario craft beers in the fridges to the left of the mass produced swill. She said “oh yeah” and walked off to buy her Heineken
You could have been in, there, Dai…
“So I was in the supermarket, right?”
“Yeah, go on”
“And there’s this guy, right. Decent-looking, about my age, a bit older. You know the type, typical Afterworder”
“Yeah, sort of slightly ‘mature’ middle-aged music fan?”
“That’s right. Probably into all them heritage acts, Neil Young and the like. So anyway, I says to myself, ‘Joni'”
“Well you would, wouldn’t you? That being your name”.
“Indeed, and being named after the BYTHM would’ve probably been a good way to get the talk flowing with this one, if it flagged”
“It would, yeah”
“So, as I was saying, ‘Joni, you want to get this one into conversation, not frighten him off’ right?”
“Right”
“So, we’re in the drinks aisle, and he looks like a beer drinker, you know, real ales and that”
“Yeah”
“Now I dunno anything about beer, do I?”
“No, you’re more a Prosecco kind of girl, aren’t you?”
“That’s right, but needs must. So I grab some cans of something – you remember those ads?”
“The Majorca ones?”
“Yeah, them. I thought, let’s give him a nice easy opener. Make it a bit political, reference Trump or something.”
“Nice”
“Yeah, a safe question, something he can speak on with authority.”
“Men do like that, don’t they?”
“They SO do. So I asks him about the merits of buying Canadian”.
“Good one. What did he say?”
“Well, he only went and told me which beers to buy, didn’t he?”
“Oh dear. Well you can lead a horse to water…”
“Oh yeah. Which is exactly what I said to him”
“Better luck next time, Joni!”
🙂 yeah I blew it
Never mind, a subthread on ‘do you talk to women’ would probably reveal truths about many of us on here, I suspect.
Not only do I talk to women, but I would rather talk to women…
What are you doing on here, then?
Think I meant in real life rather than on-line…
…mind you, maybe you have a point…🤔
Oh no, ffss – I was teasing, not driving you away.
“ffss”?
fitterfitterstokestoke?
full frequency stereophonic sound?
For FitterStoke’s Sake
🙏🏼
I talk to women every day but most of them are 30 to 35 years younger than me
Arf! I used to have that problem at work. In reverse, all, or most, getting on for 30 years older than me.
I have a theory that when we men explain with infinite levels of detail about something (e.g. craft beer, wine, food, cars, football teams, The National albums), we become seriously less attractive to women. It’s a theory I have a substantial amount of evidential anecdotes that I can draw if needed.
I don’t talk to women about any of those things which must go some way to explaining my irresistible allure to the opposite sex. The rest is of course due to my devastating film star good looks.
Tell us more about your theory, Leedsboy. We’re all ears.
Apparently the most effective aphrodisiac is a great sense of humour. So how come women remain resolutely unimpressed at word-perfect recitals of Monty Python sketches?
Funny, that – or not as is usually the case.
With the exception of Gwyneth Paltrow in Sliding Doors for some reason.
I speak to complete strangers all the time. Occasionally some will give one word responses making it ovbviiys they don’t want to indulge in intercourse but the vast majority are happy to chat.
I have on more than one occasion actually made friends with some people and have subsequently met at other events.
https://www.instagram.com/reel/DUQ7GmqDRoB/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet&igsh=ZDNlZDc0MzIxNw==
“Classic tip banter”!
Happy to chat but only if someone approaches me. I’m incredibly shy; always have been; so the thought of beginning a conversation with a stranger fills me with dread. However, as I’ve got older, I seem to care less about what other people think, so I may ‘engage’.
Luckily I am married to The World’s Greatest Talker so, if we’re out together, Janet will do all the initial chat and draw me in later.
Hell, yes. Try stopping me. But I fully accept that not everyone is as easy with talking to strangers as I am. So, I will gauge the response, and will not press conversation on the unwilling.
It does mean that I find it hard in non-anglophone/francophone countries, where I can’t talk readily with random people.
The most obvious situation for this is on the dancefloor, where the opening gambit of ‘Would you like to dance?’, which can often be communicated without words, should be followed by ‘I am now about to invade your personal space and press parts of my body to parts of your body. I would prefer that this did not lead to arrest and subsequent incarceration, if that’s all the same to you.’
I wish I could remember the film 60s I think in which a young chap approaches a girl to ask for a dance.
“Would you like to dance?”
“No ta I’m all sweaty”
Well it’s one way of saying no.
Recently, I had a wonderful conversation with a total stranger. It was on the terraces of Morecambe FC, in fairness, so we probably both wanted a distraction from the football.
I’m OK with chatting to strangers but I hardly ever initiate it. I used to – but not any more. Honestly, I DO like people generally but when I go to the beach with the dog and I see someone I know approaching, my heart sinks a bit.
There is a Jon Ronson podcast where he talks to David Quantick whom he had seen in the street one day and Quantick, not realising he had been spotted, hid behind a car to avoid conversation. I think many of us can relate to that. Fewer places to hide on the beach of course.
I rarely chat to strangers, except for last night at The Necks gig at the City Recital Hall. We had a good old chinwag before and in between sets about music and travel, and asked such deep and probing questions such as how do you do the live sound for a band that makes it up as they go along? We didn’t have an answer.
I have had long chats with strangers at gigs, though*. It’s nice because you can bang on obsessively and it’s likely the person you are talking to will be interested in what you’re on about.**
*never while band’s on, obvs.
**not guaranteed.