Public transport provides a great opportunity to people watch, unfortunately you can’t choose the people.
And so it is I find myself sitting on the Overground seemingly surrounded by a modern lady. I don’t use the term surrounded lightly, it reflects a significant size, enhanced by copious JD Sport’s bags and a voice that would make Brian Blessed nervous!
When you hold such an imposing stature then there is clearly little point in trying to keep a low profile, you may as well bellow down your cell phone for all to hear and so she did. So what did I glean from this conversation that I had no chance to avoid?
I learnt that her daughter’s partner was lazy because he made her go and spend the giro and Iceland was so far away. I learnt that the daughter was bad at keeping house so mum had to use a T shirt to wipe the kitchen sides oh and I learnt that neither of them kept the house warm enough or made an effort for nan.
I don’t think any of that would be a surprising summary for a lot of people but what struck me is the delivery. A woman the size of a small house, with more cheap gold than a small jewellers and etiquette loaned from a back street thug delivered this enlightening assessment.
The eloquence with which the delivery was made was inspiring, never have so many offensive words or grammatical omissions been stitched so seamlessly into a conversation. To round it all and complete the experience required the line ‘and I f**king said to him, you don’t say that to me that’s not how you talk to a lady. I will kick his f*ck**g face in if he talks to me like that again’.
This was a woman in her late forties and once again leads me to question my understanding of the term lady, if I have not misunderstood it then where are they?