My best friend and I totally love to go to restaurants and just eavesdrop on other conversations. We know each other so well, we don't have much to say to each other, but boy, can we have fun with OTHER people's conversations. The way it works is we sit in a booth and listen to the people behind us, then the other narrates the visual. Oh I know, it's sick, but it is hilarious because I love to make up stories about what's really happening and how their background is so much more dramatic than it appears.
Another girlfriend and I were in Seattle, and these guys were sitting across from us. One was military-looking, dressed in khakis, married, upstanding citizen-like. The other was artsy, worn-out canvas tennis shoes, self-painted T-shirt. (This was a fancy restaurant). So my friend goes, "So what's their story?" Oh let me at it. They're childhood friends. Guy #1 is out of the military and college, now working at Microsoft and preparing to start a family. Guy #2 is in town for the music festival going on, trying to make it as a musician and basically your starving artist. Guy #1 will pick up the tab (though we don't wait to see). I did make my friend take their picture under the ruse of the view though I think sharing it could get me into trouble.
Anyway, if you play these sick games in a restaurant, you too can be a writer -- or at least entertained through your meal. But it explains why I'm perfectly content to be in a restaurant alone, which Colleen thinks is weird. If this doesn't prove I'm weird, hey, I don't know what kind of proof you need.
P.S. Any soccer moms out there? What's the worst thing you heard on the field yesterday? There's this one overzealous dad, whose kid is a hot dog. Can't play team soccer with a hot dog. Anyway, the dad is YELLING like these kids are professionals but not what normal coach-y dads yell, "Get in position! Spread out!" No, he thinks the bunch-ball is fine if his kid is forward, and he yells "Get it to XX!" (his son) and my 6-year old daughter goes, "That guy is weird."
Out of the mouth of babes.
Delicious
14 Comments:
I was at a fourth grade football game yesterday. This guy behind me was screaming at the ref about a bad call. I leaned over to my brother in law and said "just think what this guys going to be like when his boy's in high school?" Sheesh. I can't imagine the pressure his kid feels.
I was at a game last week, proud as the American flag because my son had made two goals (just thought I'd mention that! LOL!), when the coach put one of the heavier-set, slower kids in a forward position. One of the other parents, a middle school teacher and coach, enthused to the kid's dad, "Hey! They're putting Little Johnny up front!" The dad grumbled, "He's not gonna know what to do." The teacher/coach just shrugged with a big ole smile on his face and said, "But he has a chance!" During the next few minutes "Little Johnny" fumbled around and I heard the dad mutter with irritation, "Oh, Little Johnny." I stood there feeling sick for the poor kid, who was giving his all, coming up short, and who would face a dad who was ashamed of him after it was all over. Right about then the kid got a clear shot at the goal and scored. Everyone was cheering and screaming for him, slapping him high-fives. The dad suddenly sat up a little straighter and smiled for the first time all evening. It was sad on one hand, that a parent would place value on a child based on their performance, but at the same time I had the feeling Little Johnny had just experienced something that would stay with him as a highlight of his young life. And he certainly didn't go home with a dad who was ashamed of him.
Not really a game that we play but once in a while when we got to a restaurant and there is a wait & we have to give a name I will tell the kids we're pretending to be someone else and give a fake name. The kids giggle as we become the Johnsons or the Smiths. I really want to be the "Fardalatta" family sometime but my husband just shakes his head and rolls his eyes at me. Can't you just see it now when the hostess hollers out for the Fardalotta family? tee hee hee
Oh man...I'm SO glad to know this isn't just MY weirdness, that it IS truly writing related! (some of the time) whew. Took a load off of my mind.
I created a whole new personality for a hotel visitor. His actions reeked of witness-protection program gone wrong!
LOL We are a sick bunch sometimes.
One of my best friends coaches a local girl's basketball team at my old high school...Well, my sisters doesn't like his coaching style at all (her daughter is on the team) and her husband likes my friend even less. Well, after hearing them gripe about the coach and listening to her ex-husband cuss out the coach, I mentioned to her that this team hadn't won a game in years until my friend took over. Now they're winning half of the games they play. Her jae dropped and the conversation was over. But what's sadder than them yelling at the coach is the moms and dads screaming at their kids to do better and cursing when they make a mistake...I almost punched out a dad at the last game for screaming at his daughter. My wife doesn't want me to go to any more games...I call it my SAMSON CONDITION.
Over at Charis Connection today, Brandilyn writes about suspicious things that happen to her when she's out in public, and how she makes stories out of these tidbits.
Then I come here, and Kristin's eavesdropping. That's ME. I did it for three hours in Starbucks yesterday. Wrote down all kinds of mannerisms and bits of conversation. SO much fun--and I was alone, too. I may do it again, today.... :)
Katy McKenna www.fallible.com
So glad it's not just me. My hubby often asks, "Why does everything have to have a story?"
"Um, well honey," I say, "You married a writer..."
Shoot, I don't have to go in restaurants to crawl into people's lives. I just go to church. I live the kaleidoscopic life of a pastor's wife, and boy, do I hear some tales! Some hilarious, some so sad I cry. This week, I gave two dinner parties in my home for winners of our Sept. Bring the Most Visitors Contest; I attended a funeral my husband preached; and I attended a posh wedding at the beach my husband officiated at. Talk about fodder? Oowee. Lots.
Thanks for a great post, K.
I never thought I'd be perfectly content to be alone in a restaurant. . . then I had 3 kids and a husband who travels a lot. Now I leave the 4 of them at home, grab a book, and hit my favorite restaurant .. . just for some time alone.
Soccer . . .Oh my goodness! The worst stories I have involve coaches on teams my son has played against. One was a husband/wife pair. They yelled, screamed, and cussed out their team of 3rd/4th (we played them both years) grade boys. Last year when our coaches actually heard that lovely "f" word, they contacted the commissioner. The other horrible coach . . .he'd hurl his whistle to the ground anytime he didn't like a ref call . . .and he too was a cusser. @@
Me. . . I'm frequently embarassed at games. My husband only yells positive/coachy things .. . but does it so loud he sounds like he's screaming at the kids!
LOL...add me to the list of "weird"! Last week, I took Heather to the airport and we had time to catch a bite in the restaurant. These people are sitting behind me, and OH MY GOSH....can you say HILLBILLY?! Me being, well, me, I filled Heather in on their convo and she looked at me, deadpan, and said "Lets talk about ducks". I nearly hurt myself. Now, you'd have to have seen/heard that routine to catch it, but oh my, it was hilarous! :)
Oh, funny... I just did a post on Eavesdropping today... guess that little habit runs in the writer genes. :)
ROFL on thinking your husband was cussing! I used to teach high school and I had a lot of unusual names. Think my 2 favorite were U.S. (as a first name) and Dang Thong. tehehe . . . that one just struck me as funny!
We were living out a New England post card scene this weekend-- my husband and I picking apples in a local orchard with our young girls. A woman's angry voice ripped across the orchard. "What did I tell you?! You'd better knock it off!" etc. etc. It was a wretched sound amidst all the happy, fruit-picking families. "Poor kid," said my husband. I shook my head and said, "She's probably yelling at her husband."
I haven't done the resteraunt thing, but I'm obsessed with scrutinizing what other people buy at the grocery store. It's fascinating what people eat. If a guy is alone, buying steaks and sald makin's, I imagine the woman he's cooking for, etc.
Many years ago I lived with a Japanese family in Tokyo. I had to watch a lot of sit-coms and b-grade movies in Japanese. 99% of the time I couldn't understand what was being said, so I made up my own dialogues as I was watching. It was hilarious--to me, anyway. My Japanese family could never understand why I'd be laughing when in their minds it was a "tear-jerker."
Post a Comment
<< Home