People are strange...

...And I include myself in that.

Typical conversation in the café where I sometimes get lunch:

Café-person: Howaya?
Me: Fine. You?
Café-person: No bother*. Good New Year's?
Me: Yeah, actually. Wasn't bad at all. Yours?
Café-person (with a grin): Still recovering. (Pause) Grand bright day today, isn't it?
Me: It is that. They say we'll have frost tonight, though.
Café-person: Wouldn't be surprised. (Pause) So what are you having, then?

No conversation between almost-strangers is complete without a 'Howaya?' (edit for accent: sometimes 'howyadoon?' sometimes 'howayiz?' and sometimes, rarely, 'how are you?') and a mention of the weather. Comments on the traffic, the passing trade, and approaching/just finished holidays might also make an appearance; if one is at a train station or bus stop, one is practically obliged to say something about 'bloody public transport in this country,' (this does not apply for DARTs. The DART runs frequently and frequently on time, damn them). If you're more than a passing acquaintance and have other acquaintances in common, inquiring after people you both might know generally forms part of the conversation, though this more usually takes the form of:

You: See Sinead around these days?
Them: Last weekend.
You: How's she doing, then?
Them: Grand, grand. (Pause) Do you ever see Siobhán these days?
You: Not for months.

I'm amazed at the form human interactions take, and how strange it sounds when you think about it. You run into people, have a whole conversation with them, and at the end of it all you don't know any more about each other than when you started.

*The answer to 'Howaya?' is nearly always some variant of Fine, Grand, No bother, Well enough. Flu-struck staggering people, and people who look half-dead, have been known to answer, Not too bad and Oh, can't complain.

People are strange...

...And I include myself in that.

Typical conversation in the café where I sometimes get lunch:

Café-person: Howaya?
Me: Fine. You?
Café-person: No bother*. Good New Year's?
Me: Yeah, actually. Wasn't bad at all. Yours?
Café-person (with a grin): Still recovering. (Pause) Grand bright day today, isn't it?
Me: It is that. They say we'll have frost tonight, though.
Café-person: Wouldn't be surprised. (Pause) So what are you having, then?

No conversation between almost-strangers is complete without a 'Howaya?' (edit for accent: sometimes 'howyadoon?' sometimes 'howayiz?' and sometimes, rarely, 'how are you?') and a mention of the weather. Comments on the traffic, the passing trade, and approaching/just finished holidays might also make an appearance; if one is at a train station or bus stop, one is practically obliged to say something about 'bloody public transport in this country,' (this does not apply for DARTs. The DART runs frequently and frequently on time, damn them). If you're more than a passing acquaintance and have other acquaintances in common, inquiring after people you both might know generally forms part of the conversation, though this more usually takes the form of:

You: See Sinead around these days?
Them: Last weekend.
You: How's she doing, then?
Them: Grand, grand. (Pause) Do you ever see Siobhán these days?
You: Not for months.

I'm amazed at the form human interactions take, and how strange it sounds when you think about it. You run into people, have a whole conversation with them, and at the end of it all you don't know any more about each other than when you started.

*The answer to 'Howaya?' is nearly always some variant of Fine, Grand, No bother, Well enough. Flu-struck staggering people, and people who look half-dead, have been known to answer, Not too bad and Oh, can't complain.