When you wait tables, you hear things. Bits. Pieces. Shards of conversation. Like finding a single, abandoned sock on the side of road: There is no context.
"The eighth graders are the worst. They'll just whip it out and start playing with it."
"It was break-up sex."
"Then he asked if he could smell me."
It is polite to avoid comments, to pretend you are deaf, to stick to the script. So you pick up plates, glasses, forks. You cannot help it. At this point, in this situation, you are looking for what you can take away, those things you can rinse off, pat dry and bring out at another time.
2 comments
I think you and I once talked about what would happen if we were to sit in a bar or coffee shop and be obvious about writing every word from a conversation at a nearby table. Would they notice? Get angry? or weirded out?
We should experiment and find out.
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