Overheard

I am not, by nature, a person who eavesdrops. There are a few reasons for this. First, I almost never know who the person/thing/event that is being gossiped about. Second, if I don't know the person, I find it difficult to listen to two people gossip about an absent third. What if that person is really a good and kind person? That's not so nice, to talk about a good and kind person that way. But what if they are really cruel? Is it any better that they are being gossiped about?

But without being an eavesdropper, I love overhearing things. You may ask "Hannah, what is the difference?" Here's the difference to me: eavesdropping is when you have to concentrate on what's being said. Overhearing something means that even if you are reading a book or filling out a form you cannot help but hear the conversation.

So with that in mind, I'd like to present this overheard moment that happened at the vet's office yesterday:

Small boy in little league uniform: Mom! My coach said baseball is a game of inches. So if I'd swung two inches higher, I would have hit it. So I basically hit it. I was just off by two inches.
Mom: Two inches can make all the difference.

The best part was that she said it in that mysterious adult voice that announced "you'll understand this when you get older." I loved it.

When I dropped Blossom off at the vet (she's fine, just a checkup), there were two women there that I can only describe as hags. One was in her 70's and the other in her 50's, although it is notoriously hard to try to guess the ages of crones. The both had long greasy hair and were balding on top. The older was closer to me and I could see she was missing more than one tooth. She bent down to look in Blossom's carrier and said "Oh My God. That is the fattest cat I ever saw!" She calls the other hag over--the younger one was on crutches -- and they discuss Blossom's enormous blob-like state.

I felt protective. I wanted to say "hey, that is my cat! Leave her alone!" Instead I looked at the women. they had pale, loose skin. Not the kind that gets like crepe paper, but flabby and decorated with red sores. They had unfortunate noses that protruded too far from their faces and hairy moles on their faces. As the leaned into the carrier the older woman said "I ain't never seen a cat that fat. She's beautiful." It made me feel a little better that they equated fatness with beauty, but the women themselves were quite gross. But here is the thing that I did that I am feeling a bit of shame over. When they leaned over, I looked down their bosoms. I do know that it was hard not to look down their bosoms, because they took up all of my available eyeline. But I looked at crone hag boobs and I don't think I should have done that. No, I don't think I should have done that because it has already become seared into my brain.

Later in the day when I was getting my hair cut, I went to the salon's bathroom and opened the door on a lady on the toilet. It's the sort of thing I fear happening to me, and now that I have done it, I know that it will happen to me.

mmmmmmm. That is all for now.
As you were.