I am an eavesdropper. A shusher of current company. A nosey woman who wants to know about every single character in the world or at least the interesting things that they say. But I do not want them to tell me. I want to hear their world myself. Even a secret snippet of it:
I was out shopping and I got to talking with a dressing room attendant. He was a smiling, lanky young man with a cheerful soul so often found mixed with the mischievous. His spirit animal would have been a monkey and I happily watched him working for a bit. He was in high school. I did not go to a high school that contained a lot of vanity. No “Heathers” or “Mean Girls” scenarios. Just down to Earth kids, so when I sat there and witnessed this exchange I was both equal parts intrigued and equal parts sad:
A young man came to the dressing room with a singular top to try on. He had a stiff stocky build and shaggy hair. His spirit animal on first glance would be an ox. However, he had an air of disdain radiating from his curled lip not typically found in that animal.
“Do you want to try that on?” Chirped the friendly young man.
The ox nodded once.
“Okay! Hey! Do you go to So and So High School?” Questioned the nice young man.
Another reluctant nod.
“I thought so! You hang out with Queen A and King B, right?”
This time the nod was accompanied by a tight lip, followed by a sneer. This was getting much too personal for the ox. He didn’t like the monkey being that familiar with him.
The monkey could sense the change, but did not alter his attitude. “Okay! Well, just let me know if you need anything.”
I did not see the stiff and popular young man leave, I only witnessed the nice young man rehanging up the top and putting it away. It made me really question, what makes someone popular? Why is it sometimes not the right person? And would I ever want to go back to high school? The answer to the first two questions are unknown to me, but the last question, I know the answer to and it is a definitive shaking of my head.
We are not done with the dressing room attendant. Right now he is our young hero. Sweet and optimistic. I wonder how you will feel about him as we watch him a bit longer:
The young man turned to my son, “What school are you going to? Are you back to school shopping?”
When my son told him the name of the middle school and that, yes, he was back to school shopping, the boy said, “I have not started shopping. I get my first paycheck this Friday. I am so excited!” And “I went to that school! What teachers did you get?”
I congratulated the happy boy on his first job and my son rattled off the two names of his main teachers.
The boy said, “Oh! I think I had Mrs. Teacher. Is she really old?”
I started to respond, “no,” but then caught myself and laughed, “Well, no, she is not old, but she might be to you. She is in her mid-forties.”
The young man chucked, “Yea, that is getting up there. Forty is definitely getting up there,” he nonchalantly stated to the almost forty year old mom.
“But I am only sixteen, so anything over thirty is old to me.”
Did you know monkeys threw daggers?
Yea, me neither. But they do. Right to your heart. Made of funny words, of course. And only at people over thirty.
Do you remember Predict-A-Pen? Well, when my son had his birthday party to celebrate turning eleven, he had a few friends over. One of the friends found my Predict-A-Pen (and my social security number, the break-up letter from my fourteen year old boyfriend, my diamond earring I lost ten years ago and my brain). I overheard him asking it a few questions:
“Will we meet any foxy ladies in junior high school?”
Not for a million dollars.
“Will we meet any foxy blondes?”
If you’re lucky.
“Will we meet any foxy brunettes?”
Dude. No way.
“Will any of us marry a foxy lady?”
It’s unclear. Ask again.
I love Predict-A-Pen.
I was at the local grocery store checking out with my staples to make dinner when the young cashier looked at me and smiled. “You look like Taylor Dfvrvsasuioooo,” she said. Well, she did not really say that last name, but I could not hear what she said or who she thought I looked like.
As the line was long, I just said, “thank you.”
Then she tried to reassure me, “Only you look better, because you are not scowling.”
I again thanked her, but I was beginning to wonder if she was really giving me a compliment.
I left the grocery store and went home. I approached my family sitting at the breakfast table. “A girl at the grocery store said I looked like someone only not scowling. Who could that be?”
My husband and daughter began to ponder the question. Who do I look like, only not scowling? My son looked me up and down, his forehead furrowed with thought, then he beamed as the answer came to him, “I know! Professor McGonagall!”
The kid might want to practice his compliments if he wants to meet any foxy ladies in the future.
*I think the girl must have said Taylor Momsen, although it could have been Professor McGonagall, my hearing might be going and my wand was sticking out of my purse.
On Monday, I was at a local restaurant waiting for my to-go lunch order. I overheard a manager speaking to an employee as they huddled together over a packet of rumpled papers.
“This new menu goes up on Wednesday.”
The manager gave the papers over to the employee and started to walk away. “I will just look them over on Wednesday,” he stated.
The employee looked up, “So it will be fresh in your mind?”
The manager chuckled, “No. I am just hoping I will be less drunk on Wednesday than I am today.”
“Is it left over from Friday?” the employee, who was working on Monday, asked.
The manager shook his head, no. “Every day is Friday to me,” he responded.
If you went into that restaurant on Wednesday to eat off of that new menu and your order was messed up… It is because it was Friday.
Have you overheard anything good this month? Anything worth sharing?
*If you missed it, here is a link to last month’s Overheard in July 2014.