Heaven forbid I should be allowed a moment of calm.


Man walks past. Glances in and sees that I’m not doing anything, so you can see his little brain flicker in to action as he thinks, “how can I disturb her moment of peace?” He eventually enters. He is French.

Man: Hi. Uh. I want to know … How… Can I find the National Portrait Gallery?
Me: Straight down this road, on the right hand side.

*That’s it, I’m done now. You’re only in here literally because you saw a chance to annoy someone*

Man: How far?
Me: 5 minutes.
Man: Thanks… So, what are you doing here?
Me: Selling theatre tickets.
Man: What does that mean?
Me: Shows.
Man: Like what?
Me: List here.
Man: What kind of stuff?
Me: Theatre.
Man: What’s that?
Me: Theatre. Plays. Musicals.
Man: Oh. Like, do they sing?
Me: Sing, dance, act. It’s live theatre.
Man: Do they speak in French?
Me: They speak in English because you’re in England.
Man: At home in France they speak in French.
Me: Makes sense.
Man: Is your theatre like the theatre we have in France, people up on stage?
Me: The concept of theatre is the same worldwide. The particular show you are watching will be different.
Man: Oh yeah, I get it. It’s like France.

*10 seconds of silence*

Man: So… What’s good then?
Me: All of them.
Man: Yeah, that’s cool
Me: Yeah.
Man: What else do you do?
Me: That’s it.
Man: Cool.
Me: Yep.
Man: Well… Maybe I’ll come back later.
Me: Maybe.
Man: So… Straight down on the right?
Me: Yeah.

*He goes to leave then remembers something*

Man: And ummm. What about the tube station?
Me: Oh do piss off.


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