Some of us can and do.

Some can’t.

I was effectively trained. It wasn’t intended for that, but years listening to unhappy souls pouring out their sorrows will have that effect. Or your manager will suggest a psychiatrist if you show signs of impending breakdown.

It works both in the office, at the bus stop, and in the supermarket queue. Avoid it at the Hospital or local Medical Centre though, as they see it as competition.

It can be awkward with close family members or neighbours. You may hear things you definitely do not want to know, so never offer a friendly ear or any encouragement to them if they exhibit signs of distress or a desire for quiet or private talk, or you are already aware of tension in the household.

Ideally, any ranting should be by telephone. This enables you to terminate it if it goes on for too long, or is getting out of hand (reference to self-harm is not something you should be handling!).

I have a regular caller, whose main cause of furious anger is his preferred football team. His preference does not extend to bad results, draws, losing, own goals (swear words at this point), or similar mishaps perpetrated by incompetent performance, which seems to occur more often than than it should. His verdict. I’m not an expert, or even a fan, which is just as well since I never dispute his views on the game. That, of course, is why it works. He knows he can say what he likes, and we won’t fall out, because I have no interest in football.

This serene approach came from and extended to my employment. I was a civil servant. We were not permitted to have personal opinions. Government policy, legislation, and the rules were our only permitted opinion whilst at work. Sympathy, if expressed at all, had to be very discreet and in no way imply that policy, legislation or rules were wrong, unfair, hard, or unreasonable.

We might say for instance, with a serious expression, “I have to inform you that on this occasion you do not qualify for…” That was safe, and didn’t refer to actual money amounts.

However, people will tell you it is rude and impolite to shout, complain, and rant. 25 years working in benefits taught me, on the other hand, that everyone is different. Some accept what they are told with an explanation. Some demand great detail, as indeed they are entitled to have. Some ask about appeals, another right that was, at least at that time, available to them in most cases.

Their responses might be done politely, quietly, civilly. Or loudly, with considerable anger, and occasionally threats which required action to remove people from the premises. Rarely, with sufficient disturbance that police had to be summoned, to deal with the possibility of harm to other members of the public, including children, present in the waiting room.

We got all sorts, which is why I can deal with rants of most types, face to face or by phone. People I know, or ones I don’t. Including, over the years, my own family – although, as I said, I really don’t recommend that.

Oddly, the loud noisy aggressive ones often calmed down if you let them shout a bit, although being female and elderly helps with that nowadays. I was never troubled by the swear words, as I grew up in a village, and I’d heard most of them before I got to Leeds. Simpler to let them float over my head than worry about what they were calling me, and what they said about the legislation wasn’t my problem anyway.

Even now I’m retired I still have interesting chats with total strangers who end up telling me their life story. Apparently I look sympathetic. Which is very odd as my kids say I have no maternal instinct whatsoever!