Captivating Conversation
The woman opposite me on the train would not stop talking at me! Not to me, at me.
She wasn't opposite, as in directly in front of me at a shared table, but to my left, across the central aisle of the carriage.
I'd made the first mistake of acknowledging her when I selected my seat. It's nice to be polite and pleasant to others; even strangers. I think I am a dying breed; so many people wander around in their own silo, entirely focused on a six-inch device stuck to their hand.
Smiling and saying hello had broken the seal. This simple act had provided her with permission to begin a conversation.
I busied myself with the settling-in process reserved for long journeys. My over-stuffed grey rucksack was placed in the overhead luggage area. It contained everything I think I might need for a two night hotel stay for work. I had a smaller over the shoulder satchel holding my priority items: my wallet, phone, notebook, snacks, etc. Plus other travel relieving accessories.
Settling in to my window seat, I hoped I would be the lone traveller on the two chair setup. I think we all secretly hope that the additional seat remains unoccupied.
Gladis, as I've affectionately named her in my head, observed me. She was busy knitting something very colourful. Clearly an accomplished knitter as her eyes never left me while her metal needles rhythmically clicked with each stitch.
As soon as my bum was on the seat the enquiries began. Where was I going? Was it business or pleasure? How long? Have you got snacks -- train prices are so expensive?
I charmingly obliged with responses over the next few minutes. I could see light at the end of this conversational tunnel. No more questions; I'd answered them all.
The train began it's energetic heave as it took the initial strain of setting twelve carriages into motion. It quickly picked up pace, and was clipping along at quite a speed as I reached the end of my interrogation.
And relax. Turning my attention away from Gladis, I gazed out of the window. Click click click of the needles.
Alas, the silence was terminated as she launched into her story. I felt compelled to return my gaze to hers. I listened, less intently, as the minutes ticked by. I feel I should have absorbed more. I feigned an interest. Nodding or delivering reassuring noises at appropriate moments. My mother would be proud of my politeness.
Suddenly there was silence. I gave the situation more of my foreground attention and noticed she was busy fumbling in her bag, one assumes for more wool.
I seized the moment, slipped my hand into my bag, and extracted headphones. I wasn't quite fast enough to get them on my head. Gladis had completed her task and was ready for round two of the chat. She enquired as to what I do for a living.
Now was the time for my dance. My rule in such situations is to fabricate an illusion. I see no merit in exchanging specifics with a stranger. Today I'd be a pharmacologist on route to a conference. I'd be speaking at the event about some exciting research and developments. Of course I couldn't tell Gladis too much, as research was at an early stage, and we're duty bound to keep it confidential to our peers only.
Gladis soaked it all up, peppering my initial reply with a few questions. We seemed to reach a pause in proceedings. She turned to look out of her own window - perhaps processing my story.
I put the headphones in position, selected an album from my phone, and turned to the window.
The next hour or so passed without interruption. I absorbed myself in a bubble of music, a sandwich, and some fizzy water. I was blind to my surroundings. As I selected new music, Gladis caught my eye. I politely smiled and cut away from her gaze.
At some point Gladis acquired a travelling companion. I'd missed that arrival, but when I did see her, she was chatting intently to Gladis. The needles were resting on her lap. Clearly the conversation was fascinating.
Another hour passed, as did so much stunning scenery.
Unexpectedly, I felt someone prodding my shoulder. I'd closed my eyes, just for a moment! Maybe a bit longer.
It was Gladis, talking to me even although I couldn't hear her. I removed my headphones. She was now standing over me.
"Just to let you know that's me getting off the train. It was nice chatting to you. I can't wait to tell my sister I met a pharmacologist working on a secret new drug."
She continued, "I had no idea what a pharmacologist did. I searched it on my phone when you were sleeping. Fascinating. Oh, that's my stop. 'bye Dear. "
And with that she was gone. Carried away on a breeze of excitement.
She may be well-versed on my role -- probably more than me!