Overheard on a train...

It was a rush hour train full of commuters returning home from London. On the other side of the aisle I could see a woman in her 50s with a dyed, jet black perm that resembled a Brillo pad. I was struck by her skirt, which was made out of a thin, white, synthetic material with a print of purple cowboy hats on it. She was talking to a gaunt man in his 40s who looked as if he worked in a library. He spoke in a very camp voice, which made even the most innocuous remark sound like a witticism. She said something to him and he shook his head emphatically.

'Ooh no, you don't want to be twirled around, do you?'

'I like Line Dancing, Foxtrot and Latin America.' She replied, in a faux genteel, but slightly 'common', London accent.

'Ooh yes. Line Dancing's not too demanding. Mind you, there's that one where they hold their hands in the air. That one's outrageously energetic!'

'I don't think Ron's taught us that one yet'

'I bet you're in demand a lot'

'I always arrive early and have a soft drink first'

'Ooh good idea. Stoke yourself up'

'Yes'

Their conversation was pure Alan Bennett and I frantically scribbled down as much as I could, but handwriting isn't my forte and I soon lagged behind. I wish I knew shorthand. Eavesdropping in public places is usually disappointing, particularly when it comes to listening to other people's mobile phone conversations. However, occasionally I come across a gem and love to speculate about the background to the people I'm listening to.

The mark of a really good writer is someone who can create dialogue like this without making it sound like a crude, patronising parody. The last book I read that was absolutely spot-on about the strange combination of banality, passive aggressiveness, humour and occasional profundity that makes up a large part of human conversation was Patrick Hamilton's Slaves of Solitude. He must have eavesdropped on a few people to write such convincing dialogue. I wonder how he would have coped with today's mobile conversations...

Yeah that's right babe...we're gonna relocate the whole operation...they're talking in the region of 300k...well, that's just a ballpark figure...

Freaky Dancing

A few years ago I was sitting in a local pub on a quiet Wednesday evening. A couple of tables away from me, an unassuming, middle-aged man sat alone, quietly nursing his pint.

Someone walked over from the other side of the bar and put some money in the jukebox, which promptly started playing the Rolling Stones' Honky Tonk Woman. At this point, the solitary drinker (who bore an uncanny resemblance to Bamber Gascoigne) suddenly stood up and started dancing in a rather unusual, slightly robotic manner, without a trace of a smile on his face.

This wasn't a drunken man having a laugh in front of a few mates. He was quite sober and didn't seem to be performing to anyone, so what was going on? Judging by the complete lack of interest shown by the other drinkers, this was a regular occurrence.

The music stopped and the man promptly sat down. A few minutes later the jukebox began playing Give Me Shelter, at which point 'Bamber' calmly stood up and began dancing again.

Later, I discovered that I had met the Lewes Dancing Man.

Sadly I know nothing about this gentleman, except that he will dance to any music, any time, anywhere. In addition to dancing at pubs and gigs, he often gives little impromptu performances next to buskers.

There are now several videos on YouTube featuring the Lewes Dancing Man including this one:

The second video features a marvellous piece of street performance. Clearly the Lewes Dancing Man is a versatile individual and is as much at home with challenging, improvised contemporary jazz as he is with the Stones and Iggy Pop:

I want to know more about this man.

Naming and shaming

This notice was stuck outside the main entrance of a nearby branch of Marks and Spencer. In the interests of discretion, I've obscured the surname.


As Hardy said, life is basically tragic with comic overtones.

United we stand...

Yesterday's BBC News website had an interesting piece on a buying group for independent bookshops. Here's the link, but if you don't want to read the whole article, the gist of it is that a company called Leading Edge is giving independent bookshops a chance to buy their stock on terms that are comparable to those enjoyed by the chains.

The terms that publishers give to retailers are shrouded in mystery, but like any relationship between a supplier and client, the more you buy the higher the discount. Independent booksellers usually get anything between 35 - 40% discount on the retail price, depending on the supplier. Waterstone's and Borders get around 48% on normal stock items, with an extra 10% thrown in if a title is part of a promotion.

Publishers are particularly cagey about the terms they give to Amazon, British Bookshops and Tesco, but it wouldn't be unrealistic to suggest a figure in the region around 65 - 70% discount on the cover price. In the case of a £19.99 hardback, this means that Amazon can sell the book for half price and still make a few quid, whereas the independent bookshop would make a loss of several pounds if they tried to compete.

I don't know how aware the general public are aware of the supply chain. In my experience, a lot of customers felt that we were ripping them off if we sold books at full price. A manager I used to know was told by a haughty customer that a book cost £3 less on Amazon. She replied 'Fine, buy it from Amazon, but don't complain in five years time when there are no bookshops left.' Chastened, he bought the book from her.

I found life as a bookseller tough enough working for a chain. I certainly wouldn't fancy being an independent these days unless, like many of the most successful 'indies', I was in a town full of posh people who weren't bothered about saving money.

Fortunately, independent booksellers are now able to fight back as members of a buying group which orders new titles from publishers in bulk, securing preferential trade terms. This gives an independent bookshop greater flexibility over pricing and makes the playing field a little more level (cliche no.572).

Since I left Waterstone's I have discovered how many people hate the chains (I think they were too kind to tell me before) but resist paying full price in an independent bookseller, no matter how much they like them. Let's hope that the renaissance of the independents will get a new boost from initiatives like the Leading Edge's.