The Guardian - Michael Holden's All Ears 20th November

(Article by Michael Holden)
Rush hour found me standing near a young couple seated on an underground train. They were headed for the airport and had the luggage to prove it. While others struggled gamely around their bags, the man hid his head in the free paper while she – with their baby strapped to her chest – talked about last night's TV.

Woman "I saw that Banged Up Abroad thing. It's scary what happens to these people. They're not like long-term pushers or anything. But they end up in all kinds of trouble."

Man (emerging from the paper) "Eh?"

Woman "That thing I watched. The people in prison overseas. It's terrible. It really scared me."

Man (vaguely) "Yeah."

Woman (fixating on bad things happening at airports and nodding toward the baby) "We won't have to put him through physio will we?"

Man "Physio?"

Woman "X-ray. I mean x-ray."

Man "No."

He opened the paper to show her an advert for a new film and pointed out an actress.

Man "Do you like her?"

Woman "She's got fatter. Fatter round the mouth."

Man (turning the page to an advert for a digital tablet) "They're really pushing these at the moment."

On the next page was a huge picture of a badly burned man.

Woman "WHAT'S THAT?"

Man "He ran through a bonfire."

Woman "WHY?"

Man (gleeful) "As a dare."

Woman "Oh no."

She looked away, rocked the baby and held it closer to her as if to shield it from all the idiocy of the world. I wished them luck.

Guardian All Ears 20th February

Decided to run with the dissonance & 'hieroglyphic exclamations' in the text (with a little added dairy product of course)

http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2010/feb/20/all-ears-the-guide


(Article by Michael Holden)
On busy trains conversations rise like dissonant music from all
angles, leaving you to bear befuddled and silent witness to the
results. Departing Manchester recently I was regaled by the almost
hieroglyphic exclamations of a Welsh woman in the seat behind me,
themselves punctuated by outbursts from a businessman and his clearly
long-suffering PA to my left-referred to here for reasons of clarity
as Alan and Lynne.

Woman (on the phone) “Did he tick all the boxes?”

Alan: (jabbing at a chart) “He’s lost focus”

Woman “You’re kidding?”
Alan: “He needs to get focused again”

Woman: “You’re (+I)kidding(-I)!”
Lynne: “Here’s the schedule for next month.”

Woman: “I got rid of all my yoghurts”

Alan: “Salesmen will always benefit from focus.”

Woman “Remember he’s on holidays…the slim guy with the glasses and the
army jacket and the long hair…well he told me he was on holiday…you
said it was super. You couldn’t see? Well that’s gutting that
is…that’ll be your last scan now, unless you pay for another…they’re
coming down are they?”

Lynne (nervously watching Alan read something) “It all adds up.”

Alan (dismissive) “There’s no point doing the math.”

Woman: “You’re breaking up. I’m going to a meeting but I feel so
un-meetinglike.”
Alan: (waving the paper angrily) “I can’t read this, cut to the chase!
Where are the bombs in this agenda, where are the bombs, the IEDs?”

Lynne (stifling a scream but still loudly, while snatching back the
documents) “IT’S JUST A LIST OF IDEAS.”

That shut him up, for a while.