Fluent in Inane

Photo: Confidence Uwazuruike

The 10:11 am train is nowhere to be seen at 10.12 am. I curse under my breath, shift my weight from one foot to the other and share a look of mutual exasperation with my fellow commuter a few feet to my left—or to think of it like an adult, a civilised eye roll.

At this precise moment, it occurs to me, as it had countless times before, how much I have changed. I mean the girl who, a few years ago having just moved from Nigeria, was grateful to be able to afford a train service, now scoffs at minor delays and shares knowing glances with strangers. First world problems eh?

Also, I am now fluent in inane. Let me explain.

London is one of those cities that can experience the four seasons in four hours, and this is no rare occurrence. This makes conversations about the turn of the weather redundant and, thus, inane.

But then, you are waiting for the bus at 6.30 am on a chilly morning and you have this almost out of body experience as you watch yourself needlessly engage the only other lone commuter about the "slight nip in the air".

A sensible person doesn't even bother with a sentenced response but if you're lucky and they are also, like your stupid self, fluent in inane, you both carry on until you part ways, never to speak again. What is the point even?

I was collecting my change from the self-check-out machine at Sainsbury's, the other day, and a man quipped: "won the lottery, eh?"

I had not. The pennies and 10p coins I was scrounging for at that moment attested to that fact.

There was no reason behind his question and even less need for anything more than a polite smile back.

But your girl is fluent in inane, remember? So, I replied without a breath's hesitation: "Wouldn't that be lovely? And then I'd pay for your shopping". All with a slightly maniacal grin on my face. This is where you facepalm.

Yes, I said I was fluent in inane not that I was very intelligent.

Anyway, at 10.13 am I see the train before I hear it, as is the way with locomotives these days. As we enter, one commuter looks at me and says: "Bloody Southeastern, right?" To which I nod and proceed to find the seat furthest from him.

I am fluent in inane doesn't mean I have to speak it all the time.