Tag: eavesdropping

Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

A high school couple were seated beside me at the coffee shop. I began by writing, ‘a young high school couple’, but isn’t that redundant? It does stimulate a story beginning: ‘An old high school couple sat beside me discussing their course workload and death choices.” Don’t know where it advances from there.

This HS couple rose to leave. She made a comment about Pink Floyd. He, looking directly at me, replied, “I know. Dark Side of the Moon is such an amazing album.”

I thought, funny, but I was about their age when that album was released. About their age when I went to a concert and witnessed Pink Floyd performing songs from Dark Side of the Moon.

I said nothing back, but I was pleased. It’s good to learn that appreciation for some things goes on.

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Sattida’s Wandering Thoughts

A man entered the coffee shop. Not paying much attention to him, I don’t know how old he might be.

A song was playing on the speakers: “Dancing Queen” by ABBA.

The man said to the baristas, “You know this song? I know it from Vietnam. I’d heard this song when we were surrounded by Viet Cong. Oh, man, what a nightmare.”

My mind did a little tumble as the guy hastened back out of the door. I pulled up Wikipedia to confirm what I was thinking: the Vietnam War ended in April of 1975.

“Dancing Queen” wasn’t released until August of 1976.

No way he heard that song when he was fighting in the Vietnam War.

Questions followed in my head. Was he deliberately lying, just creating something for part of a fake persona to gain attention, or had something screwed with his memory? Maybe he was just confusing songs…

Hard to say. These things happen to us. Part of being human.

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Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

It was a strange coffee shop morning. My back against one wall, the tables were full of chatting couples. Eavesdropping, I realized that of the four closest tables to me, all four couples were generally a counselor meeting with a client doing therapy sessions. I’ve noticed three of the couples at the coffee shop before. Heard several of them talking about their partner’s drug issues or their own health issues, both mental and physical. I rarely feel a need to talk to another about my issues. Then again, I often write about that shit.

Guess that’s my therapy.

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Sa’day’s Wandering Thoughts

A common casual question being posed as people meet is, “Are you ready for the new year?”

I watched and listened to folks in the coffee shop. Yes, spying on them, listening to them. Most commonly when they’re asked this question, shrugs are given. Sometimes someone will say, “Not really.” I’ve not any any who say, “Yes.” I don’t answer yes, myself. I’m part of that not really congingent.

We all agree, ready or not, here it comes.

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Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

Snippets from another table. It’s two women, and seem like they’re in their mid-sixties. I couldn’t help overhearing them and was often ready to insert myself in the two women’s conversation.

I didn’t, though. Restraining myself, time and time again.

***

“I seem to have some neurapathy going on with my knee. From my knee to my foot. Tingling, some numbness, sometimes. I guess I need to have that looked at. Just another thing.”

***

“You have a daughter in Portland?”

“No, Eugene. I think the other daughter is in Idaho. We’re not sure. She doesn’t call or write and stays off social media.”

***

“I’m visiting my new grandson in Texas. I’m staying with the daughter who isn’t sure if she likes me.”

“My daughter and I are having better relations. She told me, ‘Mom, I didn’t like it when you did blah blah.’ I think that’s better than just holding in anger over something. At least I can go, okay, I can learn from that.”

***

“I read Agatha Christie during my last flight. It was perfect, not too challenging or intellectual, so it’s ideal for a flight. But she solves the crime in the last three minutes. It’s like, but, wait a minute.”

“I’m in the middle of Demon Copperhead. I enjoy Barbara Kingsolver — I enjoyed Unshelved — but sometimes she can be very dark. I like her overall, though. I also like Louise Penny. She writes mysteries set in this little tiny town in Canada.”

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Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

The man at the table beside mine is a coffee shop regular. Don’t know his name but I know his habits.

A woman approaches him. I’ve seen her once in a while. They chat for a bit. He mentions that she’s back from her travels and elaborates, remarking that she returned to Reno to see friends and family, like, her daughters and parents still live there. “Oh, yes,” he responds, “you left everyone back there, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I love living here in Ashland. I think it’s great.”

Then he asks, “Remind me your name again?”

“Donna, and you’re?”

“Jack.”

I‘m a little amused by the sequence. Then again, I’ve gone through those sequences myself. A face and history is recalled, but the name is swimming through the mind’s lower depths, beyond your reach.

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Overheard

A woman was enjoying a latter with another woman another at a nearby table. I heard her say, “One time my son ended a text with TTYL, and all I could come up with for what it meant was ‘Ta Ta You Loser’.”

Yeah, cracked me up.

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Friday’s Wandering Thought

He ended up eavesdropping again. One young woman was speaking with another. God and religion were her primary topics. Then she spoke about her boyfriend for a long time.

What drew his attention was the realization that she was crying. She said, “I love him. I know people think I’m stupid. I’m trying really hard. I think we can work it out.”

It’s a trope as old as humanity.

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Friday’s Wandering Thought

He eavesdrops on others. He always does, the rogue. This time, he’s listening to three attractive women as they meet and discuss their lives. Their shifting topics could have been lifted from his own existence. He has to restrain himself from chiming in when they try to remember the name of a television show or when they struggle over recalling the name of Amor Towles’s latest novel or Jerry Seinfeld’s writing partner. He’d love to plunge into their brief discussion about The Mists of Avalon as one tries to tell the others about the novel.

But he doesn’t know them, and they don’t know him. They might think it’s rude.

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Frieday’s Wandering Thought

He enjoyed people watching. Regulars were given backstories as their habits and details were observed and conversations they had with others were overhead.

One twentyish woman always wore a jean jacket lined with wool. An ordinary jacket except she wore it every day. This was during summer, during the day, during times when the temperature tiptoed up through ninety to one hundred degrees F. Yes, she was inside, where air conditioning sometimes made it feel like we huddled in shacks as we went ice fishing. But she never removed it, always wore it.

Imagination began fabricating reasons for her jacket. It could be fashion commitment. Perhaps a medical condition? Maybe the jacket provided her with extraordinary powers or protected her. There was also the possibility that the jacket gave her form. Removing the jacket would reveal that she had no body beneath it, exposing her as a neck with two hands and a lower body.

It was hard to say why she wore the jacket, but many possibilities existed.

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