Young writers often get the advice—and sometimes the assignment—to eavesdrop. I’ve always found this a little funny, since after all, don’t most of us spend large portions of our lives in conversation? Why do we need to listen in on somebody else’s conversation in order to learn about conversation? I wasn’t sure of the particular value of being outside of the conversation. So I decided to try it.
Like many a writer, I often find myself in coffee shops. But I also happen to live in a town that is a prime destination for people in recovery programs, who also naturally find themselves in coffee shops. And so one of the first things I heard was one highly caffeinated young guy saying to another, “It was a tell-tale sign when we did free hugs and Ted wouldn’t hug anybody.”
A few days later, walking out of the gym behind a young woman and her probably four-year-old son, I heard this exchange:
Toddler: I want a snack.
Mom: I have something in the car for you.
Toddler: What is it?
Mom: Juice.
Toddler: What kind of juice?
Mom: Orange juice.
Toddler, with outright exuberance: Hallelujah, baby!
Later, sitting in a Barnes and Noble café near the customer service counter, I heard this:
Female customer, probably sixty-something, brandishing the bondage bestseller Fifty Shades of Grey: Do you think this would make a good gift?
Customer Service Rep: Well, I wouldn’t give it to someone you didn’t know well.
Next customer, a very thin woman around seventy in a denim mini skirt and high-heeled sandals: I need a ride home.
Customer Service Rep: But we’re a bookstore.