Overheard

The secret lives of our neighbors...in fact, more accessible than hidden cameras and tapped phone wires...simply a matter of talented eavesdropping.  This blog excels at eavesdropping.  Not that any major secrets, no matter to whom they belong, shall be disclosed so indecorously as to be publicly blogged.  However...still amusing and rewarding in it's own simple right.

Eavesdrop #1: My upstairs neighbor is a spoiled rotten 90lb bongo playing mess of hair and whine.  She is engaged to an Australopithecine of a "male" who drives a giant Ford truck appropriate for endeavors far heftier than his bicycle riding ineptitude suggests he is built for (said truck was a gift from bride to be's family...as in...yes, that's how eager they are to partner her off).  From across the street, mess of hair and whine whines to caveman fiance in his trendy plaid button down (actually goes well with the truck...half a point for him), "Ow, babe, I stubbed my toe."  Flat monotone but nonetheless implying this has the potential to ruin both their nights.  Plaid cave'ster has been well trained and/or paid, "Are you OK?"  Equally flat monotone but nonetheless implying he will avoid a spoiled evening because he knows who's boss.  "Yeah."...and that's it.  IT.  Onto dinner or whatever is next.  For better or worse?  Till death or stub do us 'part.  It's enough to relish being single.

Eavesdrop #2: A barely 14 year old gangly boy walking the strand with his family has so much energy as to not just burst bubbles but reallocate the energy he used to burst bubbles into an essence to create brand new bigger bubbles.  He is bubbling over.  He tells his family with enviable conviction and not the slightest hint of post-pubescent ego, "I looked SOOO good in my skinny jeans and suit top.  I'm gonna wear it tomorrow."  Bubble-->burst-->bubble-->repeat: "I looked SOOOO good in my skinny jeans and suit top."  I had to bite my lip because I realized a hair in time that I wasn't part of the family.

Eavesdrop #3: An entirely precocious, as in, I realized I didn't even want to make eye contact with her, possibly 5 years old girl at Starbucks in the common seating area is chatting up her mom's male friend like they've been hitting backyard picnics together for the past decade.  She is entirely amused with his retelling of the birthday gifts his kid received.  Then, said middle aged male of no particular denomination in any sense of the world, except, married, picks ups his cell phone, engages in a "critical" conversation and abruptly walks outside to his car.  Precocious one looks simultaneously devastated and appalled and asks her mom where he went to [so suddenly].  Mom explains that he probably had to go to work.  Instantly.  Literally.  Instantly.  The devastation and appallation (not a word) disintegrate to be replaced by sheer conviction.  She confirms,"Oh, well, that's what men are supposed to do."  I did not bite my lip.  I gave her a high five.

Life sometimes can be overheard.
Overheard: –verb
to hear (speech or a speaker) without the speaker's intention or knowledge