Last week, I had to take a long taxi ride home at the end of an especially prolonged and exhausting day. It was late at night, and the journey was set to last an hour. As the car pulled away, I slumped in the back seat and closed my eyes, enjoying the gentle rock and hum, drifting away to snug semi-consciousness almost immediately. The soft, welcoming arms of sleep began to embrace me. Ahhhhh, I thought, sighing so deeply inside my own mind I felt a warm breeze on the inside of my forehead. Ahhhhh.
But the driver had other plans. He was eyeing me in the mirror. "Long day?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied, half-yawning, snuggling down in my seat.
"I was thinking of taking the A3. What do you think of the A3?" he said.
"Sounds fine to me," I replied snoozily, all heavy lips and closed lids.
"Course the satnav's suggesting another route, but then that's satnav for you, isn't it?" said he, chucking a gentle "ha ha" on the end for good measure. In the world of pointless small talk, "ha ha" is short for "Cuh, life, eh? We're all in it together aren't we, eh?"
"Yes, ha ha," said I, in a half-whisper, allowing my "ha ha" to slide into breathy silence so it sounded like I'd nodded off halfway through saying it. Then I pointedly lolled my head as though I was already in deep REM sleep, in case he was still watching me in the mirror and required some kind of visual cue before he'd shut the hell up. It seemed to work. A whole 40 seconds passed by in silence, long enough for my mock dozing to start turning into the real thing. And then we passed a roadworks sign.
"Roadworks, that's all you need isn't it? Ha ha."
Clearly time to switch tactics. This time I didn't reply. I kept my eyes shut and emitted silence. A minute went by. And then he switched tactics too.
"So what line of work are you in, then?"
The bastard had gone on the offensive. Now he was asking direct questions, impossible to ignore without appearing rude. Furthermore, his inquiry was an almost unassailable conversation-opener: no matter what reply you give, an entire flowchart of punishingly monotonous discourse is guaranteed to follow. Even if you try to be mind-blowingly mundane on purpose. Claim you measure the thickness of cardboard boxes for a living and he can counter by asking if there's much money in it, or how long you've done it, and he'll take it from there until there's no escape; he'll be on and on with his endless questions, tormenting you with his nauseating thirst for basic social interaction until you feel like quietly raising a leg and kicking him square in the bald spot, even if it makes him swerve into the path of an oncoming juggernaut, all headlights and thunder and foghorning blare; shattering glass and shearing metal and the sudden mad sound of your own trapped animal screams - anything to close down him and his voice, his awful bloody probing bloody human bloody voice.
So I told him I was a child pornographer.
OK, I didn't. But that's the only reply I can think of that would have killed any further conversation stone dead, if only because he'd probably make me get out and walk.
But I didn't have the balls. Instead, I resignedly mumbled a response, and together we worked our way along a particularly tedious dialogue tree I've endured many times before, one which lasted the entire duration of the journey and was punctuated by about 1,500 piss-weak "ha ha"s.
Most of the time, boring people are either a) unnoticeable or b) inoffensive. Or c) newspaper columnists. In any case, they're usually easy to avoid. It's only when you're stuck in close proximity to them for an extended period that they truly cross the line from dreary to irksome. Taxis are a classic hot spot, as are long-haul flights. In the misery stakes, few things beat being stranded beside a determined-but-dull conversationalist on a 10-hour transatlantic crossing. Unless you find some polite way of shutting them up early on, you'll be teetering on the verge of assault later.
The sensible method is to politely say, "Sorry, I'm a bit tired - do you mind if I just have a nap?" the minute they start talking, at the very start of the journey.
But that might seem snooty. Plus it's vanilla and dull.
Instead, the best and most entertaining option is one I read about in a Penn & Teller book several years ago. It goes like this. Turn to your unwanted companion at the first opportunity, and explain to them that you have a condition which makes you sleep with your eyes open. It's harmless, you say, but it can be quite creepy - so you're taking the opportunity to warn them in advance so they don't freak out later. Then you sit back in your chair and silently wait a while. After about 10 minutes, slowly loll your head sideways toward them, keeping your eyes wide open the whole time, and stay there, staring at the side of their face, for as long as possible. They'll be far too weirded out to utter a word. Brilliant.
Probably doesn't work on cab drivers though, unless perhaps you're sitting in the front passenger seat. And even then it might make them crash.
Worth trying though.
I'll let you know.
Evolutionary theorist Oliver Curry of the London School of Economics expects a genetic upper class and a dim-witted underclass to emerge.
The human race would peak in the year 3000, he said - before a decline due to dependence on technology.
People would become choosier about their sexual partners, causing humanity to divide into sub-species, he added.
The descendants of the genetic upper class would be tall, slim, healthy, attractive, intelligent, and creative and a far cry from the "underclass" humans who would have evolved into dim-witted, ugly, squat goblin-like creatures.
Race 'ironed out'
But in the nearer future, humans will evolve in 1,000 years into giants between 6ft and 7ft tall, he predicts, while life-spans will have extended to 120 years, Dr Curry claims.
Physical appearance, driven by indicators of health, youth and fertility, will improve, he says, while men will exhibit symmetrical facial features, look athletic, and have squarer jaws, deeper voices and bigger penises.
Women, on the other hand, will develop lighter, smooth, hairless skin, large clear eyes, pert breasts, glossy hair, and even features, he adds. Racial differences will be ironed out by interbreeding, producing a uniform race of coffee-coloured people.
However, Dr Curry warns, in 10,000 years time humans may have paid a genetic price for relying on technology.
Spoiled by gadgets designed to meet their every need, they could come to resemble domesticated animals.
Receding chins
Social skills, such as communicating and interacting with others, could be lost, along with emotions such as love, sympathy, trust and respect. People would become less able to care for others, or perform in teams.
Physically, they would start to appear more juvenile. Chins would recede, as a result of having to chew less on processed food.
There could also be health problems caused by reliance on medicine, resulting in weak immune systems. Preventing deaths would also help to preserve the genetic defects that cause cancer.
Further into the future, sexual selection - being choosy about one's partner - was likely to create more and more genetic inequality, said Dr Curry.
The logical outcome would be two sub-species, "gracile" and "robust" humans similar to the Eloi and Morlocks foretold by HG Wells in his 1895 novel The Time Machine.
"While science and technology have the potential to create an ideal habitat for humanity over the next millennium, there is a possibility of a monumental genetic hangover over the subsequent millennia due to an over-reliance on technology reducing our natural capacity to resist disease, or our evolved ability to get along with each other, said Dr Curry.
