eavesdropping and sightings

To my shame, I am behind on relating prison bus conversations and the like. Coming to work this morning puts me in mind to remedy that.

1.) Yes, on the bus this morning, at 7:10 am on a Saturday, there was a young woman on her way to work at one of the local ghetto supermarkets, by which I mean of course "Market Basket", having a loud cell phone conversation with another woman about her tattoos. Now, I don't know who you call at 7 am on a Saturday to blather on about nonsense--well, as it happens, I do, because there was an "Awww, she's crying? You better go feed the baby and I'll talk to you on my lunch..." in there, but be that as it may, even mothers of young children who have to have their asses out of bed at an ungodly hour of a weekend morning probably would rather stumble around semi-conscious, sucking down just enough coffee to keep their eyes open while pouring Cheerios into bowls than listen to overly-animated inane conversation from their can't-shut-up friends or relatives. Or maybe that's just me. I never was a cheerful morning person.

2.) But speaking of lack of cheerfulness, I never told you all about the bus conversation I overheard coming back home on Mother's Day. Two guys, apparently old friends, run into each other randomly. One of them--and he was one of those black guys whose age is hard to determine at a glance, he might have been anywhere from 30 to 50, but he was not a *very* young man--was complaining that he had to leave the house that day, take himself off to Dorchester to have a few drinks and play dominoes with his buddies, because his girlfriend was being such a raging bitch. "I got her a little card for Mother's Day, made her a little breakfast, but she started in on me and wouldn't let it go...I said, 'Baby, I'm gonna take myself out for awhile...'" And his friend was all, "Oh, man, are we with the same woman? Because mine was being exactly the same way and I had to do exactly the same thing." My re-telling here probably doesn't do justice to just how hilarious listening to these two dudes commiserating about their wimmin troubles was, but trust me. But it does occur to me in the re-telling, that the gentleman most likely had to be closer to 50 than 30, because the wisdom to remove oneself from the situation gracefully, not take the bait and fight with a pissy and perhaps hormonal woman, is one of those which comes with age and experience. Or maybe he was just looking for an excuse to play dominoes. It could go either way.

3.) But speaking of people whose phone calls we all would be happy to take, and whom we would never ever get pissy at, I must report Possibly Irish Danny lives! I was on my way to Mr Barma's house the other day, listening to my iPod and zoning out on the bus, when I was sort of aware of a guy getting on and sitting in front of me for just a few stops. His hoodie was ruched up around his neck, so no clues there, but when he reached his hand back to hit the "stop" button, the ink on it caught my eye. And, he was talking on his cell. "Wait!" I thought to myself. "Could it be..." He got up and turned to get off and, yes, I could see his face, and it was Our Boy. This just goes to show that I really need to keep my iPod volume down to eavesdropping levels at all times, because even in the space of just a few stops, there could have been resolution of the swabbing issue, more discussion of $20 Bill Girl or Spanish Danny, or any number of other fascinating snippets of conversation. Mea culpa! But at least we know P.I.D is alive and not in Middleton!

xoxo