Since moving to Reading I’ve found lots of familiar strangers, I see them on the bus everyday during my commute, in the local cooperative store when I’m picking up milk for my tea, behind the counters in Jacksons, in the local internet cafe.
During my 1986 final year degree course Environmental Psychology classes I learned that people are more likely to exhibit altruistic behaviours to familiar strangers (than complete strangers) when meeting those familiar strangers outside of the normal context. Each will recognise the other easily but have difficulty placing the source of this familiarity.
This means that when I meet someone who normally rides on the same bus as me everyday, in Jacksons, I will think I know them and be nicer than I would be to someone totally unrecognisable.
Excellent.
More familiar strangers means more oportunities to be squishy. Given my natural curmudgeonist tendencies this can only be a good thang.
Ever since the stranger in Reading pointed out that the locals are prone to using double negatives to indicate a single negative, rather than a positive, I’ve been noticing this phenomenon. Examples
I don’t know nothing about it (Guv)
I didn’t eat none of it
There wasn’t nothing there
He didn’t have nothing to say
I probably didn’t notice this local language because I may not be prone to never using it myself.
Words of wisdom from my outrageously expensive and handsome young product-dispensing hairdresser:
If someone has been shouting at you for playing football near their house and generally been grumpy and verbally abusive whenever they see you, don’t get into their car when they follow you along the street and start insisting that you accept a lift from them while smiling and being uncharacteristically smarmy
As usual, I’ll be taking Alan’s tip very seriously and following up on this gem of wisdom
The Stranger in Reading is a 2005 Two Rivers Press edition of an original 1810 book. It contains 7 letters written, supposedly anonymously, by Reading long-time resident John Man. The book documents Man writing as if a stranger in Reading to a friend in London and includes a modern preface and editorial provided by Adam Sowan. Despite painting a not-quite desirable-place-to-live view of Reading Borough two centruies hence, the book is a thoroughly enjoyable read that has lead to the Wendy House strapline being updated.
The orginal book is prefaced by Sowans description of John Man and then by light, within-letter, explanatory annotations. The main text maintains the original creative punctuation and spelling. Sowan cites one example sentence as containing:
three colons, five semi colons and no fewer than thirty-two commas; yet it is surprisingly readable.
A theme throughout the book is the poor state of the contemporary paving, depite the Reading paving act providing the following penalities:
ten shillings, by every person leaving any carriage in the street, except whilst loading or unloading; driving a wheelbarrow on the footways; throwing dust, dirt, or rubbish in the streets. Five shillings, by all persons neglecting to sweep the foot-paths before their houses every morning (Sundays excepted) before 10 O’clock. pxxx
An enjoyable glimpse into history that has value beyond people who may be interested in Reading’s history alone. I discovered how MP’s were renumerated and elected to parliaiment and how ‘the corporation’ helped run Reading Borough.
check-out boy (COB) #1: do you want paper or plastic? ( ‘bag’ is implied)
Wendy: I’ve bought my own (handing over an old tough bag)
COB #2: thankyou for bringing your own
COB #1: can you say a sentence?
Wendy: ? (raises eyebrows and looks at COB #1 over the top of my glasses)
COB #2: he likes your accent
COB #1: just say a sentence
Wendy: (silence, muses on how easily an ill-mannered boy can reduce a Wendy to being an on-demand producer of sounds for his pleasure. Luckily, I am not yet fully trained to perform vocal tricks on demand by strangers, I simply smiled and said) cheers (then walked away with my tough old bag full of cheese and beer)
In a large communal kitchen a stranger notices that I am putting milk in the outstanding large mug of tea that I have just made:
Stranger: I like milk in my tea, it takes away the bitterness, I’ve heard that it’s a British thing
Wendy: yes, I think it might be
Stranger: OOoooeeeeEEEEE… ….from your cute accent I can tell you’re a specialist
Wendy: hug?
Blonde in car: (smiles and blushes)
Wendy: leant into the driver-side car window and wrapped my left arm around her ‘thankyou so much’
I had just finnished driving 100 miles along Blue Ridge Parkway in the Appalachain mountains between Blowing Rock and Asheville. There are no gas stations on the route or signposted from the route.
No prizes for guessing what happened to me in my rented car….
I discovered that:
- A Chevy Cobra can go about 40 miles (20 of them coasting downhill) on an ‘empty’ fuel tank, while flashing all sorts of lights at the driver.
- I can tolerate an empty tank without panicking for about 20 miles.
- 0 out of 10 American SUV drivers surveyed carry a spare couple of gallons in a container in their boot ‘just incase’.
- the Park Rangers don’t all have either a cell or radio-phone.
- people love to help a gal in trouble but aren’t too sharp on varied innovative solution routes.
- I feel like I need to ask people permission to hug them in the US, unlike the UK where a good dose of hugging all round happens at the drop of a hat and especially on soccer pitches.
pictures gradually being posted on flick-r
