The lowest common denominator

DJs for local radio stations have call-screening just like every other radio station. So why then, do they insist on letting spoon-fed remedials grace their airwaves?

Whilst slouching on the side of my bed having had a cold-riddled night of snotty sleep, I was listening to such a radio station whilst attempting to gather my thoughts.

DJs mention Sue's name in every sentence. Impressive.

DJ: Okay, on the line we have Sue. Hello Sue.
Sue: Hi.
DJ: How's it going Sue?
Sue: Okay.
DJ: Excellent, excellent. Where are you right now, Sue?
Sue: On the couch.
DJ: That's great Sue, but what I really meant was where are you right now?
Sue: Oh. At home. Lawrence Hill.

It was quite apparent at this point that although there's a call-screening process for the radio station, there's no brain-screening process for Sue.

Train station familiarity

It counts for absolutely nothing.

Of the two people that I have spoken to on my local train platform, if I try to engage them in conversation the following day or week, I am met with exactly the same "Oh, you're on the platform too?" look that I get all the time. It's not that they're afraid to talk to me, but it's almost as though every encounter has to be started with the customary brand-new-contact face.

If no conversation is made at all, they'll quite happily stare at the rail track for fifteen minutes until the train arrives, and then board in absolute silence despite the fact that these people see eachother every single day and have done for at least the last four or five months that I've been occasionally catching the train.

My travel is infrequent, and even I still recognise people on the platform that get on there every single day.

What the hell is the point in life if you don't bother to make your time waiting for a train a little more friendly and communicative? Since when has banter on the train platform led to stalking, marriage, or god forbid; casual friendship.

If you don't think you need any more friends, chances are you're wrong and you live a more isolated life than you had once thought.