I was rather consciously minding my own business on the way to the shops, trying to remember the specifics of something I planned to cook. A man loitered, he approached, he asked me if this was Marrickville. Yes. Was I sure, this doesn’t really look like Marrickville. California bungalows, numerous black-clad ancient Greek and Italian women, a plane with landing gear down and moving fast, and the entrance to Marrickville Metro about a hundred metres away. It certainly looked like Marrickville to me. So yes, yes, I was sure. And where’s
These things always bother me a little. Is this really how people interact? Am I so odd in not wanting to get involved? First you start talking to a random stranger who clearly just wants to get on with their shopping. Then you start asking quite personal questions and get offended when they have no desire to tell you. Perhaps I could be more polite but I really have no idea what to do, other than walk away, when strangers persist despite my scowly face and curt responses.