Normal Post: Authentic People

I'm always wary of the regular magazine features (usually found in glossy weekend supplements) that purport to represent real overheard converstaions between real overheard people. I'm not sure so much unassuming zany irony/ironic unassuming zaniness/etc. can actually physically exist in the material realm. This kind of feature, although far rarer than their more popular sibling, the stoicly-authoured "here's a slice of my family life, as if you'd want it" middle-class guffaw fest, are debatably much more irritating. While the latter tends to involve the authour highlighting the same shortcomings of the same family members, relentlessly, on a weekly basis, for a mild chuckle and some silver, the Overheard Conversations genre takes it to whole new level, by randomly targeting unassuming members of the public and pointing and laughing at their muddled up, inane ramblings - the same kind of ramblings that make up the majority of converstaions everyone has with everyone else most of the time anyway. It's nice to believe in a place where all conversations are perfectly formed, incisive, witty, relevent to all parties and aren't relient on forced smiles and good-luck-with-thats. It wouldn't last long - someone, inevitably, would end up just wanting a tyre flume and a McFlurry, and that would be that.

But, lets face it, Overheard Conversations don't exist. No they don't. No they don't. The fact that one of these seemingly chance encounters happens with the alarming regularity of at least once a week is unusual enough. The fact that the 'witness' is able to overhear the key details and mine the 'funny' from those details in what are usually busy public environments is, also, unusual. And despite these works of chance/fate being the seminal stuff that they are, they're not exactly top-ticket material, and presumably don't generate the income required for the authour to be able to swan around on public transport (or wherever it is that that the inherently irony-gaffe prone find themselves by virtue of their own stupidity) overhearing conversations and writing them down and shit, without crushing money-worry in tow. If you stuck to the once a week deadlines and the implied responsibilities of the other, actual primary occupation, the Overheard Conversations genre becomes almost impossible.

Unless you just really, really enjoy sneaking around in coffee shops and charity shops, hiding between the racks, tittering at the awful things the awful people say. Let's be honest, who doesn't?