Listening to Whatnot

Well thank you, Pliny the Elder, for an excellent and informative blog. I too, shall view the contents of the pepper grinder warily from now on.

I was very busy yesterday. I went to town to meet my mother for a concert. The concert was the University Jazz Orchestra playing Frank Sinatra standards, with Luke Thompson on vocals.
I don't like Frank Sinatra standards. To me, Fly Me To the Moon, That's Life, I've Got The World on a String, and What Now my Love? conjure up a world of casinos and criminality, but Luke and the orchestra were young and into Frank for their own reasons, so I listened and gradually allowed myself to be seduced. Luke was pretty good really. And I was sitting behind a young man who looked like Buddy Holly, adding a frisson of postmodernity to the proceedings.

We had a lecture in the early evening so I caught the bus home to save time. I didn't validate my ticket. When I realised, I opted to remain a criminal. A very plump girl, whose face was very close to my ear, began to talk on her mobile phone in a high irritating voice....Sharon? I'm on the bus. Sharon? I just rang up to say sorry. (A long pause, during which I could hear the slurred tones of Sharon, but not what she was saying). Well, sorry. ( Another pause). Well if that's how you feel........ I've got to go.

Then she called her mum. Mum? Sharondoesn'twanttobemyfriend! ( in a rising crescendo, ending with a violent sob). I called her to say sorry. She said she didn't want to be my friend. She said I drink too much and I make her anxious. Mum. Mum, I don't feel well. I'm going to see the doctor. (I could hear mum's voice. It was calming and reasonable). Mum. I don't care, I hate her. I've got lots of other friends. Everyone at work likes me. Julie likes me, Katy likes me, even Michael likes me and he's a MAN. (Here a straphanging man gave her a dark look). Mum, I'm not well. I'm seeing the doctor at half past 4. If Sharon calls me again I'll send Darren over. If I see her, I'll bash her up. Yes. Bye mum. See you tomorrow.

She looked at the lady sitting next to her. Sharon doesn't want to be my friend, she sobbed. Don't worry, said the lady. You don't need her. I'm sure that you have lots of other friends.