All Ears 12th September

(Article by Michael Holden)

Some conversations are not so much overheard as inflicted. I was in the countryside dependent a infrequent bus service that arrives so seldom, takes so long to get anywhere and consists of a bus so small that not conversing with your fellow travellers is not an option. It would be like trying to ignore a fellow astronaut. And in the case of the only other passenger on my journey-an elderly astronaut with some strong opinons about the local opticians.
Man “Been into town?”
Me “Not this time.”
Man (undeterred) “Been at the opticians..”
Me “Oh?”
Man “My wife’s in China. All I have to do is send her the prescription and she’ll get the specs made up there. I make it very clear I only want the test and they take me for an idiot!”
I made a face that said ‘opticians-bastards-what can you do?’ and he continued.
Man “I turn up on time and they keep me waiting for twenty minutes. I have an appointment of course but that means nothing to them. They do as they please. I won’t accept that. Eventually I summon the manager and I say you hav wasted my time-now I shall waste yours!”
Me (genuinely curious as to how such an approach might play out in the high st) “How did that go down?”
Man “Like the preverbial -but what could they do? I am the customer. They offered me ten pounds off. Big deal! My time is my own. They cannot squander it. I will take their time. This is the onyl way to respond!”
I retreated to a nod. He carried on.
Man “Seen the paper today?”
Me “No.”
Man (admiringly) “The mayor of Doncaster-he’s a real maverick. But don’t get me started on Gordon Brown.”
I wasn’t about to. I looked outside and it had stated to rain.

All Ears 7th September

More scary madmen, some drug paraphernalia & a guest muppet! - am realising I may have to ration 'mobile phone action' in these pictures in future as it's cropping up very regularly although it means I'll probably be able to draw one in my sleep now - (a very useful talent you haters!) : )

(article by Michael Holden)
I was about to exit a cubicle in the toilets of a large public building when I heard a man come into the bathroom and start speaking into his mobile. He must have thought he was alone since what had started as a whisper soon rose to yell that bounced of the tiling as he stammered with long-feremented rage over the issue of a posted letter-while I took detailed and clandestine notes and wondered what he looked like.
Man: (hissing-as though he had been stepped on) “Yessss! I posted them the, ‘welcome to your new home card’... Two hours ago. Yes, yes and that’s the reason you’re phoning is it? To see if I’d done that?”
There was a pasue while he absorbed more of whatever was coming over the phone, until he could take no more.
Man (shouting) “This is part of the reason I’m so irritable! The whole context of why I’m irritable is that I understand that there are lots of things to do...Now one of those things, I agree is sending them a ‘welcome to your new home card’... but there are a lot more things, more important things...
He listened again and paced around the room before responding.
Man “ We should have drawn up a checklist of things that need to be done! That’s why I’m so angry about all this-rubbish -about a card! If there’s one thing I’m aware of... is..is because there’s lot’s of things on the agenda ...”
Man (more placatory) “I understand that you’re not as young as you used to be but there are lots of things to remember.... Right, right...Yes!”
There was a long pause, and then he really went for it.
Man “Well I’m, I’m furious and I’m furious about this because there are lots and lots of other things to think about. It’s high time to sort things out-given the change of circumstances...It should be decluttered, It is important now . I’m moving now. I know there’s an echo! I’m leaving the bathroom!”
And he did.

All Ears 29th August

(Article by Michael Holden)

Hotel bars are strange places-venues for people who should never have met. That said, the two men I found myself seated next to at a long bar in a place that raked back in alcohol prices what it saved you on a room, seemed well acquainted.

Man 1 (concerned) “You like running though?”

Man 2 (sadly, as though bereaved) “I love it’s just it’s…got a bit out of hand.”

Man 1 “You’ve injured yourself?”

Man 2 (confessional) No. I just think I’m taking it too seriously. I entered a race a few weeks ago, a 6K thing, for charity. I won.”

Man 1 “So?”

Man 2 “Well-it was like a fun run-but I sort of misread it, and went full tilt. I was out on my own from the beginning. Soon I was so far ahead I was passing stewards who were setting stuff up. And I started to have a go at them, saying they should get their act together.”

Man 1 “What, and you stop running to do this?”

Man 2 “No. Just look back and shout really.”

Man 1 “Right.”

Man 2 “I’m not proud of it. I can see now that I’d gone mental.”

Man 1 “Well that’s the main thing.”

Man 2 “I crossed the line and there was no one there, I felt very strange”

Man 1 “I imagine death to be like that.”

Man 2 “And there was a steel band playing the theme from Blake’s Seven.”

Man 1 “Jesus.”

Man 2 “Then a photographer from the local paper and asked me if I’d cross the line again so he could get a picture.”

Man 1 “What did you do?”

Man 2 “Well I refused.”

All Ears 22nd August

This week's pic involves Metallica allusions & one of the most terrible puns known to humanity but the temptation was...too strong! Many apologies

(Article by Michael Holden)
It’s all very well, the warm weather, but the same streets which people ordinarily walk down briskly are now thick with folk indulging in the pleasures of the season-and for the second week running in this column-that means food. This time I was after a sausage sandwich but noticed that the woman ahead of me was queuing to the extreme left of the stall. I stood behind her until a man walked up and commented on the odd arrangement.

Man “Is this the queue?”

Me “Yeah, but I don’t know why it’s here…”

Woman (tense, defensive) “I’m queuing here, because I don’t want to get smoke IN MY FACE!”

One of the cooks handed her a sandwich and she walked off, face intact. The chefs then started talking amongst themselves about the song that was fading out on the radio.

Cook 1 (Eastern European accent) “What do you make of that. Pretty rocky eh?”

Cook 2 “Nah…”

Cook 1 “You like Metallica?”

Cook 2 “Nah.”

Cook 1 (undeterred) “They make an album with an orchestra.”

Cook 2 (smug, sarcastic) “Wow.”

Cook 1 “The full orchestra.”

Cook 2 “Yeah?”

Cook 1 “It is fantastic. The album with the orchestra is the same album they make themselves before without orchestra. It is so good, sometimes you cannot tell which album you are listening to.”

Cook 2 “Yeah?”

Cook 1 (the futility of his enthusiasm beginning to dawn) “You like Metallica?”

Cook 2 “No.”

Cook 1 “Still, you should listen to the album.”

Cook 2 “Nah.”

...oh not again!

...someone went & switched the animal noises while you were asleep...

time travel via food stuffs...

...if breakfast is served at an inappropriate time of day is it possible to disregard the day's events & start one's day again?

Guardian All Ears 15th August

(Article by Michael Holden)
Near where I work the pattern of lunchtime activity has been affected by the arrival of a van a couple of weeks ago that sells Burritos. Everyone has gone nuts for this and the queue snakes halfway down the road. Ordinarily I would be reluctant to take part in such a phenomenon, but the food’s too good. I was in line the other day when a woman from further behind came up and started talking to the woman in front of me as though I wasn’t there. I held out my phone quite conspicuously between them and recorded what they were saying. They didn’t notice. They had better things to think about.

Woman 1 “Nice Day!”

Woman 2 “Yeah.”

Woman 1 “Big queue. I’m really, really, really hungry”

Woman 2 “ But they are quick.”

Woman 1 “Still on for tonight?”

Woman 2 “Where is it?”

Woman 1 “You know the roundabout? I’m on the other side of the roundabout. Call me when you get there.”

Woman 2 “The roundabout?”

Woman 1 “It’s not that far down. Literally go past the roundabout, straight down the road and that’s my building.”

Woman 2 “What time?”

Woman 1 “Sevenish?”

Woman 2 “Are you going to text Kate?”

Woman 1 “I’ll email her.”

Woman 2 “And then email me.”

Woman 1 “I’ll email you.”

Woman 2 “How are we gonna get there, walk?”

Woman 1 “We could get a cab, between us.”

Woman 2 (turning to the grill, distracted by the scent) “I can’t decide what to have.”

Woman 1 “I’ll leave you to it. Here’s me gabbing on about tonight and your just like-Burrito…”

Woman 2 (like Homer Simpson) “Burrito…”

Woman 1 (slightly disgusted) “See you at seven then.”