What's in a break? Small Talk

Ironically for somebody that studied journalism, I am not a huge fan of small talk.

I know I should be and do get a massive thrill when I unearth a major unknown fact in a random conversation about nothing, however as a whole small talk with strangers is awkward and generally makes me mildly anxious.

Anyway, on Monday while making some small talk at the coffee shop while I was awaiting coffee I had the single most entertaining, enjoyable and straight-up strange conversations I have ever had.

You see one of the girls who worked at my local was making a shriek like growl when I walked in and needless to say, I was interested in what was happening.

She explained to me that she was coming up with a velociraptor call that she could use when she was in trouble or distress so that her co-workers could come to her aid.

“Oh, I thought you were doing a bird call”, I responded. And that is where our conversation took a turn for the wackier.

I then started to explain that I do a mean non-descript birdcall, although if I had to categorise it, I think it would fall into the love child of a hawk and a seagull family.

She was intrigued.

“Can you do it for me?”

I obliged, much to the confusion of my fellow café-goers.

“That was similar to my call”, she responded.

This then got us on to a discussion about the heritage of the raptor and its relationship to birds and reptiles.

“I read raptors were actually covered in feathers, rather then scales like other dinosaurs. Jurassic Park lied to us.”

At this point in the discussion, my coffee was ready however being too engrossed in our conversation we continued on. We discussed whether raptors were evil, simply misunderstood or far worse, misrepresented by the media. This then led to a discussion about whether birds were born wicked, or had wickedness thrust upon them.

Knowing my history with the winged beasts, I am sure you would not be surprised to know that I then went on a vitriolic rant about the heinous crimes committed by evil birds.

“I think they are misunderstood…like the Raptors”, she tried to refute.

She had found the issue I was not yet ready to deal with, so we agreed to disagree.

I started on my way back to work amidst fear that a rogue magpie would strike in the 300 metre walk I had ahead and she whistled the score to Jurassic Park while searching through her iPod to see if she owned it so that all could enjoy the majesty of the music.

I have a newfound appreciation for small talk.