Just putting it out there. I’m sure if you’d been trapped in Eurostar’s carriage 7 seat 23 with the world’s dullest woman in seat 20, I think you’d agree. Although you might be kinder and say THAT woman talks too much. Which is possibly true, but not much of a story.
Unbelievable the shit she dribbled out over 90 minutes. From politics to Martha Stewart to currency exchange rates to what friends (who clearly can’t get a word in edgeways) were up to, she shamelessly segued from subject to subject and she was emphatically correct at all times. 90 minutes. 90. Minutes. There went the romance of train travel. Thanks love.
I couldn’t get a word in edgeways to tell her of course but for me there is nothing like the contentment of companionable silence. Stuart and I are very good at it. Perhaps it’s my Southern roots; if you’ve got nothing to say, don’t say anything. Or say something funny.