Her Conversational Grasp

The start of this post is being written on a bus on the way to St Helens Central station. My intention wasn't to blog. It's a means of distraction. A way of preventing something else from happening.

Every Sunday I take this journey to St Helens to catch a train to Liverpool. As I'm waiting for the bus, I never fail to be in the company of some elderly Irish god-fearing lady who insists on trying to start some sort of conversation with me. Most of the time I'm able to avoid it and pass her on to someone else before I get on the bus. Today, however, I wasn't so lucky and today she's on a roll.

I saw her approaching with 4 minutes to go before the bus arrived. Knowing what she was like, I tried to think of something that would make it look like I'm occupied. The obvious answer would be to pretend I'm on the phone but at the time I thought pretending to text would be the answer. How wrong I was. This was an ideal conversation starter and one that would lead to more weird and wonderful subjects.

It started with her asking what make my phone was because her sister had bought her one for Christmas. I have an iPhone and this lady is 71 (I know this because she told me for some reason) so I knew she must be mistaken just by listening to her. The old "that's the same phone my sister bought me" trick was the touch paper that was lit to lead to a detailed outline of her relationship with her sister.
She doesn't like her, apparently, and the supposed gift of the phone had prompted her to sever all ties with her sister. Hence the reason for her journey to church this morning. Every Sunday, she needs someone to pray for and today would be forgiveness for not talking to her sister. So now another subject had come along and sister was left behind to make way for church, religion and God.

During this part of the conversation - conversation being totally the wrong word because I had hardly said anything on purpose. Even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't get a word in - she spent most of the time talking to God himself leaving me out completely. Her sister will be pleased that she's in good company when it comes to blessings. Among the others are poedophiles and people who have sex with dogs (the RSPCA are getting a letter regarding a random news story in the south of England as well as a blessing themselves).

As my own blessing, the bus appeared around the corner and here was my hope of escaping this Sunday morning mini-torture. Even as we got on board, the lady asked me to sit near her which I politely turned down as I "had to make a phonecall". Better late than never, eh?
Then, disaster struck, in her mind, anyway. The bus driver failed to leave the second we were on board and therefore she would late for church! Panic ensued (in her mind only, again) and, with no one else to share her current dilemma with, she decided to tell herself. Words of insult and complaint flew back and forth between her and… well, her and then, to save her from her own torture, some poor unsuspecting soul got on the bus whom she latched on to instantly. I couldn't help but give a slight smile and continue with my imaginary phonecall as the poor young lad was drawn deeper into the conversation I had managed to escape.

There he stayed until the bitter end when she left the bus. The few people who had joined us along the journey were safe because she had hooked her prey and kept him in her grasp. The entire bus seemed to give a sigh of relief.
I, on the other hand, have 7 days of freedom until I risk being drawn in again.