I sweat

Predictive text and talking to strangers

At lunch I walked across the park, tapping out a WhatsApp message to my Mum at the same time. After I’d sent it I read it back:

Watched I Sweat last night. Loved it!

Now you’ve almost certainly heard of the film I Swear, based on a true story about someone with Tourette’s Syndrome. Watch it if you haven’t. It’s excellent.

I wouldn’t rush to see I Sweat, though. It would most probably be some accidental self-filmed video footage of me at various stages of the day; shaky close-ups of my hot, red face in that very singular perimenopausal-with-a-baby stage of life. Predictive text will never cease to entertain me. You couldn’t dream up the scenarios it presents.

At the weekend I met some friends and we were talking about the difference between living in New York and living in London. I have never lived in New York so I couldn’t contribute to much of the conversation. One Londoner who’d lived there was saying that since he’d moved back here, he really missed random conversations he’d often have with complete strangers. At parties. On the subway. Walking down the street. He said New Yorkers were much less shy about talking with people they didn’t know.

He said that most of the time, if you struck up a conversation with someone on the street here, they’d look at you strangely. I’m not sure if I agree, but I do think that Londoners find it hard to talk to strangers. They’re too shy to make the first move. Too self-conscious. Too worried that they’ll be interrupting something, or offending someone, or highlighting their loneliness. I don’t know.

There are some posters on the tube at the moment, put out by TFL, encouraging passengers to deescalate harassment by striking up a conversation with someone they believe is at the receiving end of unwanted attention. If I’m not explaining this very well, here are some examples:

While I like the sentiment, I find the message confusing. I find a lot of things confusing, so it might just be me. But I’m not entirely sure, from the set up, who the person allegedly being harassed is, and who the person coming to try and diffuse the situation is meant to be? But, to me the biggest problem is this.

On most tube carriages strangers aren’t striking up conversations with one another. So to then try to encourage someone to be bold and talk to someone they don’t know (even if it is to potentially diffuse a bad situation) might feel a bit ambitious. What do you think?

But back to my friend, who said he never wants to come across as someone giving anyone unwanted attention. He said that he often wants to say something to a stranger such as: I love your outfit, or: Is that book any good? But he feels nervous about seeming odd. Especially if the person is a woman, who might think he’s chatting to her as a way of chatting her up. I understand why he thinks this way.

But personally, I love it when people talk to me without expecting anything in return.

When crossing the road: I love your hair!

When in the supermarket: I just wanted to ask where you got your trousers from

When on holiday: Oh look at you too! So gorgeous together!

Thank you! Thank you! I said to the older Greek guy in his car. He was very camp, and I loved it.

I know that the context of these situations determines whether you’re happy for strangers to talk to (or with) you, but I can confirm that interactions like these (short and sweet) make me feel great and golden, and help remind me that sometimes, I make good outfit and hair and men choices.

Anyway, I’m trying to be less shy about speaking to strangers as an experiment now. I think it helps if you’ve got something in common. A dog, or a small child, or the same pastry from the great bakery up the road.

Delicious, aren’t they! You could comment, while walking past them with a smile, and the comment would actually work perfectly for a dog, child, or pastry.

Talking of pastries, I’m eating too many. That, and chocolate eggs. I keep looking in empty chocolate boxes and finding them empty. I blame Joab, until he reminds me that I am the culprit. I blame tiredness. The baby has been waking in the night and we’ve resorted to taking him downstairs sometimes, before he wakes everyone else in the house up. He now thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to watch Teletubbies, boob in mouth, at 2am. Still, things change, eh? This is just a phase, as they say.

Have a great Easter weekend if you get any days off (my poor New York colleagues get nada! And in a city where there are so many Catholics!).

Tell me: when did you last speak to a stranger? What did you say?