Anyone who follows me on Twitter will probably have noticed that I have
a bit of a fascination for overhearing snippets of conversation.
There’s nothing voyeuristic about it. I’m not snooping. I just enjoy the confusion that often comes with hearing a statement entirely out of context.
For a split second you are let into someone else’s world – and just as
you’re getting comfortable, the door slams shut, with you left on the outside, trying to
suss out the circumstances.
The best ones often involve mobile phones. Hearing just one
side of the conversation only adds to the confusion. Sometimes, you are left intrigued:
...and other times, the mundanity captures your imagination:
One thing all these overheard conversations serve to illustrate is: none of us know what we're doing. We all stumble our way amateurishly through life,
trying to make the best of our circumstances. Nothing is rehearsed, and
as a result we often make mistakes. Most people don’t give this a second
thought - but if you’re hyper-aware, you can’t help but pick up on it.
Here are a few favourite conversations I have heard and subsequently tweeted, just for the sake of it:
"I said 'I've got tent pegs, but they're the medieval reenactment ones.'"
Boyfriend to
girlfriend: "When I saw your dad for the first time I thought 'f**king
hell."
"I reckon my
elbow's got a lot to do with my shoulder."
"My dad was a
fan of John Wayne - but then he was very much a man's man."
Child to Father:
"Is that a white train?"
"He'd like a
filter coffee; he was doing a mouthwash so he couldn't talk."
"I couldn't be a
lesbian if I wanted to."
"A mate at
school was always breaking his bones. I think he had something wrong with his
stuff."
Customer: "A
very dishevelled man just walked in. I think he might be a tramp."
Barmaid: 'What's 'dishevelled'?"
"It was when
Silvia was in India that she caught the disease where all her hair fell
out."
The other day we interviewed the musical comic Jay Foreman for our MoreThan Mostly Comedy Podcast – and during our chat he mentioned how, since
becoming a comedian, he finds it much harder to find a contrived, honed joke funny; these
days, he is much more amused by a happy accident. It’s much the same for me;
I thrive on looking at something mundane and everyday from an unexpected angle;
turning it on its head to point out its ridiculousness.
Possibly one of the finest instances of this occurred after Glyn and I previewed our 2010 stand-up show 'Big in Small Places' at the Soho Theatre. We were performing in the room
upstairs to a largely industry-based audience; always a tough crowd, but we
managed to get through it. However well I thought it had gone, my ego was soon
brought crashing to the ground when overhearing a couple on their way out.
“Those two were very funny”, said the woman to her partner. “I wonder if
they’d ever consider trying stand-up.”
THEY'D JUST BEEN WATCHING US DO IT FOR OVER AN HOUR.