September 1, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

Overheard in August 2014

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.

“Will…”

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.

August 2, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

Overheard In July 2014

With Comic Con and so many treks outside of the house this month, I overheard a great deal more weird and absurd things than I normally do. I also overheard something heartbreaking. Balance… And all of that.

It’s the weekend. Let’s just get right to the eavesdropping:

At the Rose Bowl Flea Market, an old man was setting up his booth to sell his wares. He looked up and when he saw me, he approached me and said, “Have you come here to collect your iceberg detector?”

Huh? I stood there blinking. Then I walked away. All day I asked my husband what the man meant by that comment. We still do not know. But now I want to say something absurd to a random stranger that will make them wonder all day.

It is important to spread the love.

And why do I look like I need an iceberg detector?

And why do I need one?

And most importantly… What the heck is an iceberg detector?

I was at Trader Joe’s buying flowers. The older woman in the lane next to mine was also purchasing flowers. She was with her friend.

The cashier commented on her pretty flowers and she responded, “My husband passed away four years ago today. My friend didn’t want me to be alone. At my age, I am not looking to meet anyone else. So, what else am I going to do at 6:25 tonight besides leave flowers at his graveside?”

This broke my heart.

And made me appreciate her friend. I was glad she was not alone. At 6:25 that night I thought of her and hoped she was okay.

I was at a diner (which by the way is the absolute best place to eavesdrop). Two elderly women were chatting about their week.

They were discussing the merits of Bingo and the cost involved (we eat early).

“I went to… What is it called… Is it Weird Wednesday?

“You mean Wacky Wednesday?”

“Yes! Wacky Wednesday!”

“I got six cards for the price of two. You should come with me next time.”

The other woman agreed to do so.

Before they could discuss their future Bingo plans, a baby shrieked in the restaurant for the third time in five minutes.

One of the women pierced her lips and leaned over to the family sitting at a table next to their own. She spoke to them in a conspiratorial whisper, but I could still hear her.

“One time I was out to dinner and a kid screamed just like that. Before the kid could finish that scream, a waitress popped a lollipop in the kid’s mouth.

Well, it worked, but there was a bigger problem.

Other kids saw her give that kid the sucker and then they began to shriek for their own. One child was quieted, only now the rest of ’em were screamin’.”

She began to chuckle and leaned back into her own booth, lost in her memories.

At Comic Con, I overheard the following snippets of conversation from numerous people:

I can’t wait for that pizza!

My feet hurt!

Greg has a strict rule of not working out the week before Comic Con.

Please keep moving there’s no stopping here.

I cannot wait for my paycheck (said by a security guard)

I had no idea it would be like this!

I try to tell her everyday but everyday she comes. So far she has been a loser all three days. There is no benefit to waiting hours and hours.

There are going to be many things that you want.

I could see her undercarriage!

I was at the doctor’s office and I overheard the following conversation between a grandmother and her four year old granddaughter:

“Now remember, when you are camping, pick your things up off of the floor! It is going to be crowded as it is and with the new baby and all of those diapers, there is not going to be a lot of room.”

“Grandma, did you ever wear diapers?”

A soft laugh and then, “Yes, but it was a very long time ago. And they were not the diapers they have today. In fact, your mom did not have those kind of diapers either.”

“What kind of diapers did you guys wear?”

“Well, they were cloth and we washed them.”

“But what did you do with the -” she whispered the last contents of that sentence but I think we can assume that it had to do with contents, too.

“We flushed it down the toilet.”

“Eeewwwwwwwww!!!”

The little girl had many more questions but the grandmother distracted her with questions of her new puppy. Which from the sound of that conversation, seemed like that puppy could have used some diapers of its own.

What did you overhear last month? Anything interesting? Did you find your iceberg detector?

If you missed last month’s “Overheard In,” you can find it here.

June 1, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

Overheard In May 2014

May was a weird month. I kept getting bad news. And it seemed those around me were receiving bad news. And the bad news compiled into a quicksand hole of stress that I could feel myself struggling through as I tried to meander through each day.

Well, two nights ago, we had incredibly good news (about my son’s health). If you are wondering why I am sharing this in my overheard post, it is to explain the scream of jubilation you must have heard from your house.

Sorry about that. It was from my husband.

It went like this:

“Wheeeeeeewwwwww! Waaaaoooooooeeeeeewwwwww!”

This was repeated and fist pumped and jumped through the house. I told him I had never ever seen him so happy. It made the month of May close on a sweet note.

With that said, I spent much of the month at home with my son or in the doctor’s office, so I did not hear much. But what I did overhear, I will share with you:

At The Cheesecake Factory we sat outside and to our left, was a beautiful German couple in their early twenties. They were hipster cool in an easy-not-on-purpose kind of way. They would have made the people actually trying for this look fall on their knees and rip at their hats.

They ordered a chocolate malt and a slice of cheesecake. For lunch. Or breakfast. It was eleven o’clock. Which again, was cool without trying to be cool.

I don’t think I have ever had a moment like that.

The waitress returned after a few minutes to inform them that the kitchen thought they might be out of malt. She told the couple that they might want to pick something else on the menu.

They both grinned at her and said, “This is okay. But we do not know this word, ‘malt.’ What is it? What does it mean?”

Well, the waitress was not expecting that answer. And she just kind of stood there trying to determine if she knew the answer. I don’t blame her. I am not sure what I would have said myself.

So she said, “It’s the stuff that makes a malt a malt.”

And they grinned wider.

And she hastily left, returning minutes later with cheesecake…and a chocolate malt!

“They found some malt in the kitchen,” she said.

She left the desserts on the table with obvious relief.

The couple only ate two bites of cheesecake and a few sips of the malt before they asked to take the food to go.

Then they cooly sauntered away. Both of their perfect hats faced towards a new adventure.

I volunteered at my son’s school two weeks ago (for the first time all year. It is hard as they get older. They get bigger. I get lazier). The fifth grade was doing a colonial day reenactment. They got to pick five items to make that they would have made back in the colonial days. I was helping at the book binding booth.

It was actually quite comical to hear the different conversations around me. Here is one:

A tall fifth grade boy sweetly grabbed one of the pillows his friend had made, and rubbed it on his cheek. He put his head on the pillow that was so small it barely fit into his hand, and proclaimed in the most innocent voice, “Oh. They feel so good. I should have made this.”

In the triage across from us (at the ER), there was a two year old who had ingested her grandparent’s prescription medicine. She screamed as they force-fed charcoal into her system. The mother sang Barney lyrics in an eerily high and enchanting voice, “I love you. You love me…” And then it randomly changed to, “Clean up. Clean up. Everybody do their share. Cle-”

The little girl left a few hours later: tired, confused, perfectly healthy. And the mother handled the whole thing with such gentle grace.

After they left, one nurse said to the other, “you have charcoal splattered all over your scrubs.”

The other nurse shrugged and said, “I don’t have another pair with me.”

To which the first nurse softly said, “Don’t worry. It really isn’t noticeable unless you are looking for it.”

And it was wrong. Oh, so wrong. But that mother’s last song began playing itself in my head.

“Cle-”

In the hospital bed next to us at the emergency room, a fifteen year old boy had severed his big toe almost completely off. I did not ask how, but believe me, I was curious.

When he was being discharged (after they had performed the reattachment surgery), they gave him some interesting advice.

“Make sure you keep changing the diaper* on your toe. I know it is unusual, but the diapers will absorb the fluids that are draining.”

Who knew?

*I believe this is what I heard. But I could be wrong. I cannot find any information on diapers being used for wounds. So, maybe I was delirious with exhaustion or maybe it is a new thing. Please take it for what you will.

I was at Trader Joe’s purchasing peonies and a few other staples, when I went down an aisle, and saw a mother pick up a jar of Trader Joe’s Clarified Butter and say to her daughter:

“Let me just clarify something for you. This. Is. Butter.”

I laughed. And I bought the clarified butter. I had forgotten I had wanted to try it. Making it is a pain.

How was your month of May? Did you overhear anything good?

If you missed April’s “Overheard In”, you can find it here.

April 1, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

Overheard in March 2014

I did not actually overhear a lot in March. Okay. That is a lie. I overheard a lot of stuff I felt was too inappropriate to share. One thing in particular I cut out because it involved a young teenage girl. Gotta use my common sense.

It’s in there, I swear.

Somewhere.

With that in my mind, here are some funny or interesting conversations I overheard or took part in in March:

I find dynamics between women fascinating. When we were eating a meal in Vegas one day, I happened to overhear an awkward woman in her late forties approach the table of two women the same age who were currently all ready halfway through their lunch.

“Hi!” She screeched. And the two women at the table exchanged glances. And I cringed inside for the loud girl.

“How are you doing?” She guffawed. But before they could answer, she immediately jumped to, “Did you hear I got promoted?!”

They acknowledged that indeed they had.

The awkward girl tried to downplay it like it was no big deal, but one of the women interrupted her and said, “It’s obvious you’re really proud of it. You can’t play it off like you aren’t.”

The girl could not take a hint and stood there for a good five minutes longer, looming over their table describing the entirety of her new job and title. She could not seem to sense that the two women were not only not happy for her, but that she had long overstayed her welcome.

After she finally made it back to her own table, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. It was a tough one to witness.

Yesterday, my family and I went to a falconry lesson (post to come soon). While we were driving home, we were discussing the things we learned and the many different raptors there are in the world.

My son said, “I would really like to see a Golden Eagle.”

To which my daughter replied, “You know it’s not really gold, right?”

My son sighed heavily, and sadly said, “Really? Darn! I really wanted to see that.”

My husband said, “It is more like a brownish gold.”

My son replied, “Oh! So, like a perfectly toasted marshmallow?”

I will never be able to see or hear the words Golden Eagle and not think of marshmallows again.

We were walking back to our hotel in Las Vegas and a couple was fighting in front of us. Not in front of us, but rather, they were walking directly ahead of us and their conversation was loud enough for me to hear. And not necessarily fighting, but having a loud conversation that neither of them was likely to win.

“You do this every time!” The husband proclaimed. He was neither indignant nor was he sad. Just kind of factual and emotionless.

The wife did not seem to care. “I’ll make it up to you when we get back to the hotel.”

“Great.” The man said in a slightly uplifted way. Meant I am sure to be sarcastic, but the wife was all ready rushing ahead, intent on whatever new pursuit had caught her attention.

The man begrudgingly began to follow her and I was just close enough behind him to hear him mumble, “But you won’t.”

And I wish I had not been that close, because that made me sad.

I was at a bar with my friends. Wait. That sounds rather seedy and dangerous. Oh? It doesn’t? Okay, good. No need to explain further, then.

There were two young couples in their early twenties seated at a table next to us.

I noticed that one of the four young adults would jump up, tour the bar area slowly and then come back and the next person would get up and do the same thing. It was too loud to overhear what they were doing. My talent lies in observations not in conversations. I was far too shy (and frankly far too lazy) to go to their table and ask them what they were doing.

My outgoing friends had no such qualms. They approached the table and inquired as to their curious behavior.

It turned out that the two couples were in town to celebrate one of the couple’s engagement. They were all old friends and had decided to meet there that night.

The bar had a long wall of paintings and each of them was getting up, picking their favorite painting and coming back to the table. The game was in deciding if the other members of the table knew the person doing the choosing well enough to correctly guess their favorite painting.

It was a cute, innocent ~~drunken~~ game. And I was happy to witness easy fun between friends. Us girls were so much older than the two couples and it saddened my heart to think of the light-heartedness eventually coming to an end as the heaviness of the years takes over.

I hope it doesn’t. I hope their light is trapped within each of them like the oil on the paintings that they each picked. And does not tarnish.

Speaking of friends. On another night while walking in Las Vegas (oh! My feet. My poor, poor feet. This blog would take on a new tone if they could speak), a trio of men would burst ahead of us. And then stop. Then run. And stop. They were all over the place.

This might have been scary.

Had they not each been under one hundred thirty pounds. In their very early twenties (little boys, really). Dressed in pastels. And had not been so completely oblivious that there were other individuals in the world besides the three of them.

They were yelling back and forth to each other. Somewhere along the line, the three of them got separated (how this occurred is beyond me, as it was a straight walk back to our hotel).

I walked in front of the dark haired young man with the purple pants and blue checkered shirt. His eyes focused. Then refocused on me. “Hey!” He screamed, even though we were two feet apart. “Hey! Have you seen Ferdinand?”

I replied, “I do not know who Ferdinand is, but it is a lovely name.”

He was back to ignoring that I existed and five feet a head of us a blonde haired young man was impatiently stalking.

“Ferdinand!” Yelled the young man. They happily rejoined each other as if they had not been separated for less than three minutes.

“Ferdinand, she doesn’t know who you are! She’s never heard of you!”

They both looked back at me and snickered. I was surprised he remembered speaking to me. The two boys took off running.

I wondered if the two of them remembered their duo had been a trio just moments earlier.

I turned to my husband and said, “Wow! I have never seen anybody drunk act like that before!”

My husband chuckled at my naivety. “Honey,” he said. “That wasn’t alcohol.”

“Ohhhhhhh.” I exhaled. It had never occurred to me that it could be anything else.

And I guess that is a good thing.

I was at our hotel and a group of male escorts were behind us. I accidentally stopped and one of them almost ran into me. But before the collision occurred, he belted out, “BOOM!”

Which startled me and made me move.

And then chuckle.

Because if that is not the best way to get someone out of your way, I don’t know what is.

Have you overheard anything funny lately? Any good stories to share?

* If you missed February’s Overheard In, you can find it here.

Gnome Lover

Stumbling through life while still having fun

Overheard

Overheard in August 2014

Overheard In July 2014

Overheard In May 2014

Overheard in March 2014