Overhear No Evil
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Hear No Evil.”

I was having a conversation with a friend in a restaurant many years ago when it became obvious to me that the woman at the next table was taking in everything we said. She had that waxy glaze in her eye and that unmoving stance that just signalled eavesdropping. When I ceased talking and fixed her with a steely stare, she started, blushed, and immediately admitted, “I really wasn’t trying to overhear your conversation. I just sort of over-listened.” (Here I’ve copied an earlier response to a similar prompt.)

I’m sure I’ve been guilty of listening in to conversations in restaurants.  In fact, I’m sure I have strained to hear a particularly interesting conversation.  The problem is that my memory is as poor as my hearing, which makes retelling you the subject of any of those conversations a problem.  But, since I’m presently sitting in an outside restaurant, I’m going to try to overhear some snippets..Strange, but everything seems to be a cacophony. I can’t seem to separate sounds.

We’ve been without electricity at my house for 12 hours now–the result of a colossal thunderstorm last night, so we came in to Ajijic to try to have breakfast and use the wifi in the plaza Jardin restaurant.  We came inside so my friend could plug in her dead computer.  Now two tiny sparrows have hopped in after us and wait expectantly for what crumbs may fall from our breakfasts.  Fat chance.  I’m having avena (oatmeal) and my friend is having some grassy looking drink that looks healthy but doesn’t appeal to my tastebuds.  I like to lie in unmown green and drink orange or red.  Yellow is for accompanying chutney and black requires lactose free not fat white.

In my middle years (ahem) I have become pickier about what I eat and drink, as has my body.  My tastebuds, like my hearing, have plugged themselves to new imput.  If someone were eavesdropping on what I think, they would be hearing “No green juice!”  And if people around me were talking louder and more distinctly, I’d be writing to the prompt, but in lieu of this, I’ll ramble on, or perhaps I’ll do you a favor and just stop.