OVERHEARD

And in thy mercy, protect us from the overheard…

Have you ever noticed that anything you ever overheard is never anything that you would want to hear?
I was in a restaurant waiting for my son to return from Mime class. Across from me were four people. One, obviously, was the friend or relative that was showing the others around New York City. He leans back from his lunch and asks: “ So, do you want to go to Ground Zero or Macy’s?”
Apparently mass slaughter and retail sales have equal tourist appeal.

I overheard two high school teachers of English talking about an excerpt from Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities.
First Speaker: “ Dickens? I could never get into him…Too slow!”
Second Speaker: “ I know what you mean. When I was trying to read it I was saying,
‘ Come on, Chuck. Pick it up, Babe!’”
Listener: “ Did you actually refer to Charles Dickens as ‘Chuck?!’”

And of course there are the endless examples of people speaking anywhere others are gathered: telling others on a cell phone loud enough for all nearby to hear where they’ve been, what they are eating, what petty gnat like opinions they have of the latest family intrigue, or how soon they’ll be getting home.

My response should be to loudly tell one and all to Shut The Fuck Up!
But years of social conditioning and marriage and the undoubted misunderstanding of the arriving police shoves my outrage to a dark seething place. So, I too have begun to speak loudly on my cell phone whenever I encounter the offenders. But I speak fantasies:
“ What do you mean the gorilla is not in his cage? Where could he be?”
“ No, I do not think a dagger would go with your outfit; besides, it is a crime to have one in your possession.”
“ Thank you for sharing, Barbara, but I don’t think having three organisms is an excuse to be late for dinner!“