Conversation Infiltration...and Other Things

Let me begin by saying that it has been a rather momentous week.  It's not that anything happened that I wasn't expecting at some point, like winning the lottery off of a ticket handed to me by a stranger, or getting stuck in the cockpit of a  burning plane because I was too 'portly' to escape.  (The latter did happen to Harold MacMillan, Churchill's envoy to Algiers, in 1943).  Rather, I've simply been feeling great satisfaction and a release of pent up stress as things fall into place.  Namely, I have finally received my passport and visa, and bought a ticket back to Nebraska for the 21st of March.  I'm looking forward to eating huge amounts of burgers sans horse meat.  Although, to be clear, I didn't eat any horse meat here.  In addition, I have begun a new job, doing research for a genealogy company in London, which promises to be interesting and, even more exciting, was granted a renewal of my British Library Card for three years!  

One of the best parts of last week was a trip down to Exeter with my friend S.  We met at Paddington Station on Friday morning where we proceeded to indulge ourselves on coffee and bagels.  Exeter was stunning that day.  I hadn't yet had the opportunity to actually walk around town, but this was the perfect day for its debut.  The old part of the city reminded me of a quaint village, but after a short walk, we suddenly came upon the modern shopping mall which included all of the shops you could want, even an Apple Store.  After coffee on a terrace cafe (where I actually was forced to take my coat off for a brief period because it was TOO SUNNY) we trekked to campus where I met with my thesis supervisor in a room so filled with books I could actually feel myself breathing tiny paper flakes.  I should also mention that there were two chairs in the room, one of them a huge brown seen-better-days armchair.  

The entire day was lovely, including our lunch at a restaurant called 'The Living Room.'  I was a little disappointed, though, that there were no couches, only long picnic like tables.  Doesn't it seem a bit misleading to call a place 'The Living Room' and not be forced to eat off of a TV tray while sitting in an armchair?  However, on three separate occasions during the day, we had different individuals jump into the middle of our conversations.  Just to clarify, yes, they were strangers.  The first time, we were walking through a tiny passageway in the old part of Exeter when S made a comment.  A man walking towards us immediately repeated what she said in a loud voice.  I realise that Exeter is not London and that there are less Americans living there, but is that really necessary?  Nervous laughter really is the only response to an encounter like that.  Later the same day we were also imitated by teenage boys on skateboards.  This experience was made awkward by the fact that in the end, we were all walking at about the same speed.  No!  We couldn't get away!  What could we do but keep talking, loudly and proudly.  Still, it was one of those awkward situations, like when you get home and realise that the pre pubescent boys walking too close behind you were spitting on your backpack.  Not acceptable.  

Once back in London, S and I were headed to a pub in the Spitalfields area, where we used to live, called The Water Poet.  They have a beer garden, acceptably clean bathrooms, and an unusual number of mirrors.  On the tube S was telling me a story about how when she first moved to London and got her phone, the phone salesman who was setting up her contract asked her if she wanted to transfer her old number to her new phone.  She laughed and said that since she had just moved here she didn't have any friends so she really didn't have any numbers to transfer.  As we were getting off the Tube, a man behind us jumped in and said, "Girls are always complaining.  There are plenty of nice people right in front of you that you can be friends with."  Now, while I think that most of the time jumping into someone's conversation is just plain awkward not to mention unnecessary, if you really feel that you must do so, at least make sure you have the context of the story right.  That in itself brings up all sorts of questions about eavesdropping.  Really, the only times I want a stranger contributing to my personal conversation is if I'm looking for the nearest cash point and he/she happens to know where it is.  

Regardless of the oddity of strangers breaking into personal conversations, the week has been such a pleasure.  Finally, I can rest secure in the fact that I once again possess valid I.D. documents and will maybe get to see some snow on the ground in wintry Nebraska.