Big Brother Is Listening

Spend some time with me, and chances are you’ll notice I’m not paying attention to what you’re saying. Please understand, it’s not that I don’t value your company; if that were true I would have already devised an elaborate system of avoiding you. You see, I suffer from an as yet undiagnosed case of Auditory ADD (if everyone else is making up their own little diseases, than I can too).
My sickness causes me to listen to every conversation in earshot. More accurately, I’m a chronic eavesdropper. Letting off some steam about your boss on the train ride home? I couldn’t agree more, he was more relaxed when he was drinking. Talking to a friend about your boyfriend’s habit of keeping his socks on during intimate moments? Please, go on. Telling your mother that you’ve realized all that tuition money was probably a waste? I got every word. The explosion of cell-phones have only made me sicker, people will talk about anything in public now. But every so often I hear something so fantastic, so unexpected, so absolutely stupid, that I have to write it down. Looking back over my notes, here are some personal favorites.

The Scenario: I’m eating lunch in a café at UCLA. A group of engineering students behind me are talking about whatever they talk about. I’m barely paying attention and very much focused on my crossword when I hear…
The Line: “You know, sometimes I wish I lived in the time of wizards and hobbits.”
The Reaction: It took me a second to realize the full implication of this statement. I hate to break it to you my magic card-playing friend, but there never was a time “of wizard and hobbits.” You seem to have crossed a very important line. “I wish I could play polo on the back of a stegosaurus” is an infinitely more plausible scenario than the one you’ve laid out. I considered saying something, and then pictured him casting a fire spell on me while tossing his cup of barley soup at my head. I held my tongue.

The Scenario: I’m standing in line waiting to order breakfast. The woman in front of me has been contemplating the menu like it’s the DaVinci Code. When it’s her turn she approaches, glances at the board above the cashier, and asks…
The Line: “So, is this your menu?”
The Analysis: No amount of sarcasm could possibly be enough: No, this isn’t our menu. This is a menu from another restaurant we’ve traded with. You’re gonna have to go there and read our menu, then come back here and tell me what you want. It’s just something we do to infuriate our customers. Also our menu is in Sanskrit, so you’re probably going to want to get an interpreter, or enroll in a four-year university. Next!

The Scenario: On the train home, late night. Not only is this guy talking on his cell phone, but the train is pretty empty, so by process of elimination I’m listening to every word. He’s not very interesting, babbling about some vacation plans, when he says…
The Line: “There’s no way I’m going back to Seattle, not after what happened with the zoo thing.”
The Analysis: What!? What’s the zoo thing!? Jesus Christ on a bicycle tell me what happened at the Seattle zoo! My mind was racing with possibilities. Did one of the animals attack him? Maybe he attacked one of the animals. Maybe a llama spit at him and he got the ornery beast in a headlock before being attacked by a whole llama gang. I don’t blame him, I wouldn’t want to go back to a zoo where I was viciously beaten by a pack of furious llamas. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to ask him what happened. Not because I would have to admit I’d been eavesdropping, but because I figured the real story couldn’t be as good as the one in my head. I was right, to this day many a waiting room hour has been spent contemplating just what can go wrong at a zoo.

The Scenario: I’m at a meeting at work, this was during my catering days. We’re all sitting there listening to the manager lay out the complications of chocolate fountains, when there’s a sharp bang, followed by a voice behind me whispering…
The Line: “I think I just staple-gunned my finger.”
The Analysis: What do you mean you think you staple-gunned your finger? Look at your finger. Is there a staple sticking out of it? If so, then you probably shouldn’t have been pretending like the staple gun was a real gun. Or at least made sure all your appendages were safely out of the way. For the record the speaker of this particular line was a good friend, and when I turned around to inquire about said stapled finger, he replied “Christ, it feels like there’s a lightning bolt in my finger.” This is why I like him so much.

Looking back at this list, I’m pretty happy with my disease, it certainly makes the world a more entertaining place. I’m not really sure what other people do when they’re waiting in line for things, no cell phone game is half as engrossing as the pearls of wisdom that come out of the mouths of your fellow human beings. I know I must have said a few over the years, I hope someone was around to record my best moments.
I’m sure everyone has some personal favorites, moments that have stuck with them throughout the years. Feel free to share, we can do a sort of almanac of overheard conversation. And if for some reason you can’t think of anything, then I highly recommend taking a little more time to examine your environment. After all, if you’re not listening to other people, I’m probably listening to you.