I hate it when a stranger accosts me on a train or a bus and starts talking rubbish. Perhaps I don"t want to listen at all, but such people do not really pay attention to their listeners" mood. They just want to talk to somebody. Unfortunately, the monologue (because I would not really call it a conversation) rarely makes any sense. I never know if I should laugh or ignore them or simply tell them that I am not interested. It"s even more irritating when they see that you are busy reading a book, texting a message or listening to music. Last night I was travelling on a train from London to Manchester. A middle-aged guy approached me, sat down in the seat next to me and started talking something about scrap silver. It was a family story, a very complicated one, and at some points it did not make any sense at all. It was a bit funny to listen to the man. He said that he had just inherited a box full of scrap silver from his uncle Frank. Frank had just died in a car accident. He had inherited the silver from his father, who had died of heart attack. Frank"s father had got the jewellery from his sister, who had died in a plane crash. I understood what he wanted to tell me. The scrap silver definitely brought bad luck. I am not a superstitious person. If he wanted to get rid of it, he could always give it to me, I said.