Street Life.

"Just a quick word, it won't take long, honest. You don't even have to give your real name, Mr bin Laden."

I was working in Big Town yesterday, doing street interviews with passers-by for the sake of a rammed up, ludicrous story to keep the name of a very big corporation in the newspapers.
Yes, I know, and you're right - sleep does not come easily to me at nights. I promise, I did try to get into blackmailing, pimping, people trafficking, drug dealing and estate agency but there were no vacancies, so journalism it had to be.
Anyway, you do get to chat to all sorts in my line and it does little to bolster your faith in human nature or stop you from constructing stereotypes.
I went up to a taxi driver who was sitting, reading a paper, in his black cab which was halfway down a rank at which no would-be passengers were waiting.
"Can I have a word, mate?" I piped up. "Sorry chum, I'm too busy," he replied. I suppose, on reflection, sitting on your fat arse, breaking wind, reading The Sun and picking your nose does constitute stress to a taxi driver. I mean, he's doing four things at the same time! Serious multi-tasking! Strangely enough, he pulled out of the rank and drove off, passengerless, just after I spoke to him - spot the unlicensed cab?
Another target of mine was a haughty-looking 60-something in classic twin-set and pearls. "Hello, I'm a reporter and.........." was as much as I managed to get out. "I only read The Telegraph," she snapped. "Well, it will probably be in The Telegraph," I countered. "Well, I don't deal with street vendors," she said sniffily as she waltzed off. Street vendor! Fucking STREET VENDOR!! "I don't have to do this job because I'm actually a fully qualified brain surgeon," I called out as she hurried away. Little victories, little victories.
How about these for some of the other responses I got on collaring people, all of them true, I swear? "I 'day' talk to the 'pearpers' since our Audrey's trouble." (Seriously! That's all one bloke could say!); "Are you licensed?" (What am I? A fucking dog?); and my favourite "Will I be on telly?" (I'm standing there with just a fucking notebook and a pen!! He probably WILL be on telly one day - on Crimewatch.)
There were, of course, some decent coves around but, as Frank Zappa once said, "There is more stupidity than hydrogen in the universe, and it has a longer shelf life".
Mind you, Frank also said "The whole universe is a large joke. All the things in the universe are just subdivisions of this joke so why take anything too serious?"
Let stupidity be the one thing at which Granthamites excel.