They didn't touch his brain. A sentence to get your attention, Overheard during a layover at Hartsfield Atlanta Airport. A family of three were having this serious conversation, oblivious to my presence. I had a small notebook out for the long layover. I usually carry one because I don't like to sit without doing something. Most writers will admit to being careful eavesdroppers.
The story proves people will say anything in a crowd - a party, a movie theater, waiting rooms. We don't think anyone else is listening except the person standing next to us. Mind you, these are not stories we would get up and share in a hushed dinner hall. These are things that could hush a room in full throttle.
Are our spoken words safer in a crowd? Does a public space give us courage to say things we only think in private?
One afternoon I was waiting in my doctor's office with my Sudoku puzzle book. I usually carry one in my bag. Besides being addicted to nine squares, it makes me invisible.
Two ladies were sitting nearby, maybe a grandmother and her daughter. I already knew the grandmother had seventeen children. Reeling from that kicker, in this quiet waiting room, the grandmother offers out of the blue, "They only found her head." She had good timing because I almost fell out until she said "the cat." Of course, that was not a pleasant thought. You never know what people will say.
My hair salon is rich with details. A friend says every good stylist knows where the bodies are buried.
In one afternoon, I was privy to these two partial discussions. I was getting my hair shampooed, one of my favorite luxuries.
And let us not forget the complete, nothing private, barn door open cell phone. This was the one sided conversation. Verbatim. Because I always get to my book and write these things down.
"You need to eat humble pie. This is not going to fly. He is mentally unstable. I told her "Girl, that's not a diaper, it's your panties." Strange. Minds flipping back and forth.
As I was getting my cut and color, drama in the next chair. I had to listen. I pulled my puzzle book out later when my color was working.
"Are you in love? Ever been to Europe? Getting dry - so long. All my friends lied to me... I said that but he said no... Last year it was Mexico." After a lengthy discussion of her lovelife and travel, her overprocessed hair and her lying friends, she actually started talking about greenbeans, okra and tomatoes. Non-stop even through the blow-dry.
This is what people are talking about. Outloud to the whole world.
Everyone carries a story. But not everyone tells their story in the waiting room or airport. I think if you asked most people, they would say nothing has ever happened to them, at first. But then they might remember. Long ago ancestors walking the Trail of Tears. Watching a favorite aunt fry up a baloney sandwich. Lying on blankets,under a country dark night with cousins, listening to "Close To You" over and over and over. Flying a plane at eighty years of age. Milking a cow during a marriage proposal. Painting a red room two and a half times. Jumping in puddles one afternoon. Riding in a private jet with Coach Bear Bryant. Most are not earth shattering but the back stories could be phenomenal. Inspiration is out there.
I have been a storyteller all of my life. A wise mother once told me to write what I know. When I was probably twelve, I taught myself to type on my Pa's typewriter. A new sheet of paper, slipped into the typewriter, was a thrilling possibility. Almost the first place I headed when we got to my grandparents' house. Uninterrupted time to sit at the typewriter desk. Space for my imagination to grow. Encouragement for my toddling gift.
My love of storywriting pushed me out into the unknown world of blogging. Five years later I'm still here.
Part Two to follow.
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