What kind of question is that to ask someone? Horrible.

So I'm home for Christmas which, so far, has been lovely bar meeting a crazy at the bus stop last night. I was catching the bus to Ian's and was at the bus-stop when some guy sat next to me and said:
'Alright mate? What bus are you waiting for?'
'The number five.'
'I'm getting the number four. What's your name?'
I know I shouldn't have told him, but I did, and he then carried on asking questions about what I was doing etc, all the time using my name at the end of the question. Anyway, I told him I was a student studying Creative Writing (I didn't want to discuss my novel with him) and then he started asking questions about the course.
'What kind of writing?'
'All sorts.'
'Do you read?'
'Yes.'
'On the course?'
'Yes.'
'What books have you been reading?'
'Um, lots.' I couldn't think what to say, and then he asked, 'Is this conversation boring you? Am I not asking the right questions?'

It was really uncomfortable, and I was really glad when the bus sailed round the corner. What kind of question is that to ask someone? Horrible.

Aside from that, yesterday was okay. I'd stayed at Ian's on Friday night for a Winter Solstice celebration, which was great, and then went Christmas shopping with him and James. I don't know why I leave it so late every year, but it's a tradition I don't seem to be able to shake. Still, managed to get most of the things I needed with as little stress as possible and went down to my nan's with my Ian and my parents last night where he experienced my nan's heavy handed whisky measures for the first time. That's what the festive season is all about.

xx