HOW DO YOU KNOW ME? OR WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO A STRANGER?

There are many inexplicable moments in my life. Things that make me wonder if I am some part of a giant Truman Show project, albeit a British one. This version would be smaller in scale, there would be no Ed Harris playing God from a window in the moon, there would instead be Noel Edmonds perving from my neighbours box room, the whole sorry programme would be quite apologetic, with rubbish sponsors, really poor product placement from Primark and most of the time the producers would be trying to set me free because my life is too dull to pull in any viewers.


This morning I was cycling along on my fold-up, I pulled up at the lights next to a normal looking guy on his fold-up. We had a brief exchange:

Him: Morning (nods at me with that ‘we are smug eco warriors on our bikes’ kinda way)
Me: Morning (same nod back)
Him: How’s your car doing?
Me: (looks over shoulder thinking he is talking to someone else) Err..
Him: You said it was running badly and the exhaust was playing up?
Me: Did I? (now I am pretty convinced we have only been there for a couple of seconds and I haven’t covered this much conversational ground)
Him: Yeah, your exhaust.
Me: (this is true, WTF?!) We’ve sorted it thanks (going with the flow)
Him: Cool. Did you get the cheap one?
Me: (really scared) Yeah, turned out to be the bracket (why am I still talking? Why haven’t I said, ‘I think you have me confused with someone else’)
Him: Haven’t seen you in ages, things good?
Me: Yeah not bad (can’t go back now, I would look like a weirdo who is happy to accept conversations with anyone at traffic lights because I am too lonely)
Him: I’ll catch you around, love to the missus (off he pedals)
Me: (weak pathetic stuttering voice) Y..yeah and… umm yours.


Why, how, who? @slroh is convinced you follow me on twitter. I am not so sure.

Let me know who you are and, indeed, if you know me?