Overheard Conversations

sarahdalton said:

I get it, but to me money is independence, and even having to go through a power play rigmarole suggests that she's lacking in independence, you know...

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Actually, as someone who is regarded as independent, I do this, even when I am the breadwinner. It's not MY money, but OUR money, so I'm acknowledging that when I ask. It's not about seeking permission, but rather about showing that he's an equal in the relationship. And he does the same.

Can't see me ever using it in a book but the following was the greatest one I ever heard. The scene, two young guys in a Starbucks in the UK...

Guy #1: "Who's that bloke? Went to America?"
Guy #2: :baffled:
Guy #1: "He's a twat."
Guy #2: "Piers Morgan?"
Guy #1: "That's him!"

Me:

God, yes.

My recent favorite was overheard in a Safeway grocery store a month ago: a well-dressed fortyish woman with a harried expression, wedged into a quieter nook in the wine section. I only heard this part of her cell phone convo: 'Well, don't blow it up. Just call Animal Control.'

Filigree said:

'Well, don't blow it up. Just call Animal Control.'

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That's beautiful.

Part of me is dying to know, but most of me is glad I never will. It's just perfect as it is.

Overheard on a train a couple of years ago:

First elderly lady: "I wish I knew what happened to some of the old family photos. I had one of Auntie Vi and her dog Bobby but I haven't seen it for years."

Second elderly lady: "Auntie Vi? Oh, I remember going to her house a couple of times when we were kids. She was the one with that funny little furry rug draped over the back of her chair."

First elderly lady: "That was him! That was Bobby! He was run over by a van and she wanted something to remember him by."

@Alice Eyewatering.

A lovely one - not mine - I read it in a Reader's Digest I think - or a magazine column. It went:

Mother (narrator) travelling with her kids, kept them entertained in a service station restaurant with the game of guessing the profession or lifestory of the other diners around them. One time, a fellow diner stopped by their table on her way out and said, "Thought you might like to know, I'm not a secret agent, I teach lip reading."