There's One in Every Crowd

I am not good at eavesdropping. I know we’re supposed to set up some sort of scene for this blog, but that didn’t really happen for me. I take the bus quite often; enough that I wouldn’t ride it just for the sake of trying to listen in on others’ conversations. It’s too bad, because I’ve heard some interesting ones in my day.

Bus 57 from Forest Grove to Hillsboro is a great route for eavesdropping. You get a lot of ex-cons out on parole, talking to each other, especially if you sit in the back of the bus. If the seat’s available, I like to sit in the very back, on the far left. I’ve heard young men discussing the merits of beating their wives and girlfriends, one guy saying he choked his girl until she passed out.

One time, while waiting for a bus, a huge drunk Hispanic man was hassling an old homeless lady. He had to be 6 ft 5, 300 pounds. He was telling her things like he was an X-Man and that he had pure evil inside of him, and he could do anything he wanted to her. She must have been used to dealing with situations like that, as she just shrugged it off and smiled, deflecting his drunken weirdness with kind indifference.

I wish I would have been taking notes the time two young white trash girls were arguing at Hillsboro Transit Center, as 57 was getting ready to depart. I can’t remember what they said, but it was pretty much exactly what you see on the Jerry Springer show. Horrifying, yet hard to turn away from.

Anyway, this was supposed to be about dialogue, and I tried to listen in on some old ladies at Maggie’s Buns while drinking coffee at a table next to them, but I couldn’t hear them very clearly. I’ve listened to way too much loud music over the years, and when I’m in a room with a lot of people talking, it’s hard for me to make out words. It sounds like a bunch of seagulls at the beach. And if I can hear a few phrases, I can’t write fast enough to keep up with the conversation. So here’s what I could make out:

“But you know what he was saying…”

The whole table breaks out in laughter.

“A lot of people know what he was trying to say.”

They laugh again, louder this time.

“But he did his route the other day. Somebody rode with him.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.”

“He sets goals for himself”

“Well, you know he does.”

“Just doing twenty stops or so.”

“You know him so well.”

“I do. I do.”

“You do.”

“I do, I do, I do, I do.”

“You know, Pam comes in from Seattle, it’s the old neighborhood up there.”

“Just as long as that cranky woman…”

“There’s always one in a crowd.”

The table erupts in laughter.

And scene. That’s all I could make out in about twenty minutes of listening. I’m not sure who the guy making the routes was. Probably her husband who is old and has to take it easy, or possibly some handicapped friend. But it’s important to make goals for one’s self. I know that now. I do, I do, I do.