In that there London town for the weekend and I swear this conversation took place on the table behind us in a cafe.
“No, Nicola Sturgeon’s not even an MP.”
“Isn’t she? I thought she was.”
“No, she’s an SNP. They don’t have MPs up there, they have SNPs”.
“Oh yeah, I did know that actually.”
Never have I felt more foreign, despite having been born in that there London town. And never has it been more difficult for me not to weigh in to other people’s private conversations. I managed, because I am a very responsible and grown-up person.
Of course, that does not mean I’m about to stop earwigging. Some of my happiest moments have come about as a result of hearing snatched fragments of conversation out of context.
I can just about get away with the secret thrill of earwigging but where I may come a cropper is the staring.
Lately, I have had to suffer the indignity of family members telling me to stop staring at people – and I don’t even realise I’ve been doing it until they tell me. I fear I am heading for a perfectly justified confrontation one of these days.
It is not a new thing, I’ve been enjoying a good neb at other people’s business for as long as I can remember. What does seem to be new is that I have forgotten how to do it surreptitiously.
So far, though, I have witnessed some truly gobsmacking moments.
These include a family missing their bus because they were all looking at different mobile devices at the same time – and then blaming each other.
So I may continue both these very rude habits, despite the danger of being decked at some point.
It’s a bit like the whole Pokémon Go justification – at least I’m getting out and about while doing it.