Conversation in the lunch queue
Farhad: (Announcing) When you are old, you will die.
Miss Black: That's right.
Yunus: Me and Farhad, we're going to be very, very old men.
Miss Black: And will you still be friends when you're old?
Farhad: (laughing, as one who says, don't be ridiculous) Nooo!
Nabeel: My gran is very old, she'll die.
Miss Black: Oh, is that right?
Farhad: (still laughing) But I don't want to die!
Miss Black: Don't worry, it won't be for a long, long, long time.
Farhad: And when you die, you start again as a baby.
Miss Black: Oh, is that what you think happens?
Tanzeem: Nooo, you don't start again as a baby, you start again in HEAVEN.
Miss Black: (not wishing to enter into a religious debate as she's hungry) Ah, I see.
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21 comments:
Did you think of saying, "Don't talk nonsense, Tanzeem, and go and draw another picture of me."?
I thought about saying 'when you die, that's it. There is no superior being, there are no gods, there is nothing more than the here and now, life is just about lawless random chaos with no truth, justice or beauty, and with only pain and decrepitude to look forward to at the end of it.' But I wanted to go and get a sandwich.
I was kind of hoping the rasta would turn up again. Who am I kidding, I always hope a rasta will turn up.
Annie, that would have floored them, perhaps. I second your words, but I'd delete the truth and beauty bits. I think we can have those. And we might get lucky on the pain and decrepitude fronts, you never know. Anyway, if I were talking to you in the dinner queue, I'd say, "Miss Black, can you remind me how to punctuate, please?" That ."? looks very bad to me.
BiB - you are awful! x
Oh, hi Annie. Wanders off.
A rasta, Emordino? Should I have introduced Haile Salassie to them?
BiB, currently writing reports, I'm going blind staring at text.
God, I'm bored. I will pay an actual tenner to the first person to post some filthy gossip in the comments.
Hi Arabella! We cross posted. He is awful, but we do like him.
I was reminded of your last "dialogue post," which featured a delightful rasta youth. And a hearty Turk. Good times.
fithy(ish) gossip:
in my inbox this week:
We are currently producing a documentary called 'How The Irish Have Sex' [...] Having come across your blog, we think you would be perfect for our show, how a women of today relate to the subjects of sex and relationships.
eek. despite my disastrously single and unloved status, i have unwittingly become a "sexpert".
I just wrote a very long comment which Blogger promptly lost. Arse.
Anyway, it involved trying to explain the difference between heresy and atheism to 12 year-olds before deciding that life really IS too short.
Ah, that Rasta.
Rosie, ha! Good gossip. You are not disastrously single and unloved ducky. You are young and free. Boys only cause heartache, and they smell of wee. So are you going to do this programme? Must say, I'd rather kill myself than go on the telly & talk about relationships, but everyone is different.
Marsha, good grief! I try and steer clear of talking about religion in case it gets me into hot water.
dunno. said i'd wait til my strop peters out then make my mind up.
I've been helping out a local international school. We were discussing chocolate, and I asked them where good chocolate comes from. "Switzerland." Fair enough. "Japan." Well, it's better than American. "Scotland."
Sorry, wee Iain from Aberdeen? Can you give me the name of a good Scottish chocolate?
"Potatoes."
Riiight...
Rosie, let us know...
Tim, ha! At teacher training college we learned to call these 'misconceptions' but when they come out with stuff like this it makes you realise that kids are just mad.
Ah, I do envy you sometimes. We never have deep philosophical discussions like that at my work...
Ok... gossip. Well, tomorrow I am dressing up as Miranda from Sex and the City for work. Dress, hair, make up, the whole deal. Then over the weekend I have a date with a new girl. Which is great. And will probably bump into my ex at a friend's birthday party, the first time we've seen each other since she cheated on me last summer. Which is not so great.
they have chocolate potatoes in scotland? it'd be like something from a dream...
Del, what is it you do, exactly?
Damn - I have gone blank on gossip but will try and remember something suitably noteworthy and come back to you. On the joys of children's minds - my lovely son asked me the other day "Mummy? Were you alive in the Victorian days"? Oh how sweet and uncorrupted his little inquiring mind is. I might have to make him sweep the chimney for such insolence! ;-)
Del, we demand pictures on your blog. Hurrah, date! And, oh darling, I didn't know about that. Can't you take the new girl with you and flaunt her to your ex? (Sorry, that's very childish and immature advice.)
He's got a lovely job at BBC Radio Rosie, with all the groovy young things who are into music.
RoMo, bah! Send him up the chimeys, or down the mines, that'll teach him...
It's tempting! Not really first date territory though. "Hi, it's great to meet you. By the way, do you fancy coming along to this party later where my ex is going to be? We could make out and make her jealous. But I'm totally over her. Honest. Um. Cheque please..."
And yeah, there will be photos.
Of me dressed as a woman. Not photos of me making out with a girl. That would be weird. Although weirdness is a fairly relative concept today.
Yes, my advice is, never take my advice. Is this what you do in the office to pass the time, or is it for an actual promotion?
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