I often stumble into weird conversations with lunatics, well meaning spasies and tetchy old people. I accept my lot. Walking around Island Bay with a cute little girl, a marauding greyhound and a keen sense of the absurd naturally attracts space cadets.
Take my recent chat with Jason, a halfway house man-child who favours short shorts and colourful beanies.
Jason: Wow that's big dog
Me: Yep, its a greyhound
Jason: Has she tried to eat your baby?
Me: She is not a Dingo, so no
Jason: I don't like Robbie Deans*
Me: Me neither
Jason: I like sausages
Or my chat with an old lady yesterday. Gladys spied me from across the road. She then took about 30 minutes to get her walker across the pedestrian crossing. This afforded me the opportunity to pop into the cafe for a flat white and to watch the traffic build up. The waiting cars were not amused. I was, though.
Gladys: What a lovely little girl
Me: Thank you
Gladys: She is a bit exotic looking
Me: Yes, she is half Chinese
Gladys: My Albert wouldn't buy any Asian cars or TV's after the war. Couldn't stand those Japs. Albert's cousin's neighbour, Norman was a POW. A cruel race, or so he said.
Me: Indeed
Gladys: Mind you, that Chinese fellow at the Fish n Chip shop is nice. Always gives me an extra bit of fish so they are not all bad.
Harmless loonies and bewildered old crones are good fun. I encourage everyone to have a chat with these folk. It will make their day, and yours too.
* For those outside New Zealand who don't know about rugby, Robbie Deans is a Kiwi rugby coach who coaches the Australian national rugby team, a traitor of sorts. He is nick name in Australia is "Dingo Deans".
Is it really necessary to nail the plates to the table? What happens when we want to play monopoly? Go directly to plate? Do not pass plate nailed to the table by a stupid hippie?
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