The dangling conversation

I never thought of eavesdropping as a sport. Then I met Jeff.

Those of you who know my dear husband know that he has an almost obsessive interest in human nature. He is a devoted people-watcher, which means that public settings of all kinds fascinate him. Within minutes of arriving at any location that involves a crowd, he zeros in on whomever he has determined has the most drama-filled life.

How does he know, you ask? He doesn't, of course, but that doesn't stop him from concocting a story, right on the spot. All it takes is a few snippets of conversation and a quick analysis of clothing, hairstyle, makeup and the telltale signs of cosmetic "enhancement," and he's off and running.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting there with my nose stuck in a book, magazine or newspaper, trying to ignore his obvious breach of public etiquette. I've always thought it terribly rude to people-watch, and ruder still to listen in on the conversations of strangers.

But one day recently, I found myself listening to half of a cell phone conversation. All I can say is ...... I've been missing a lot of drama in life!

I was at the park with Elijah because, knowing that winter will descend upon us soon, we simply couldn't stay inside on a beautiful 70-degree late-October day. (The trees have just recently turned the most brilliant shades of orange, red, purple and yellow that I've ever seen, and the sheer beauty of all that color against a deep blue sky is enough to draw even a die-hard indoors person like me out into the fresh air.)

So there we were, Elijah scrambling over the play equipment and me sitting on a bench cursing the fact that I had forgotten to bring a book, when I happened to overhear a thirtysomething woman on the phone. She was talking to a relative, apparently a sibling, about arranging a family Thanksgiving get-together in Chicago. Then she let it slip:

"All I can say is, with the economy the way it is, thank God that Mom pays for the airline tickets."

This was followed by a long silence. Then.... "Well, uh, yeah. Ever since college."

A really long silence...... "Are you still there?"

At that point she was moving away from me, and I missed out on the next few minutes of conversation -- making me understand for the first time the frustration that Jeff gets when a juicy discussion moves out of hearing range. She stayed on the phone, though, and by the time she circled back around to where I was sitting, the topic had moved on. But there was an unmistakable tenseness in her words, and she laughed just a little too loudly at several points. By the time the conversation ended, she was clearly feeling uncomfortable, and I can't blame her. So was I!

So, Jeff, next time we're out in public and you're spying while I'm reading, clue me in! Eavesdropping just might turn out to be the one sport I'm good at.