A Mother's Tonic

I can hear you...

One of the many things I like about traveling, besides the obvious being transported to warmer climates, is observing people in airports.

To the untrained eye, it might appear that I am absorbed in my book, but really my bionic ears are listening to every conversation within a stone’s throw, and I’m watching every movement out of the corner of my beady eye.

And if you sit down beside me and have a conversation on your cell phone, it is not a private discussion: I am hanging on your every word.

A man sat down beside me at the airport last week and we had a lovely chat with his wife on his mobile. It was so stereotypical I could easily decipher – probably verbatim – what her responses were, despite not being on speakerphone (really, how rude!).

We talked about the Vancouver weather – balmy compared to where they resided (Chicago? Denver?). We all agreed traveling is extremely tiring, and the food sucks. We discussed his daughter’s basketball game, and whether or not her play stood out from the rest of the team’s, and how that Ashley girl is overrated. We talked about his wife’s paycheck, and how it was so small it didn’t cover the cost of her work wardrobe, and although we all chuckled, she was secretly annoyed that he keeps bringing this up. We segued into his wife’s friend for a bit – trouble on the horizon in her marriage, what are you going to do? And then, finally, could she pick up his dry cleaning and kiss the girls for him? He loves her and will see her tomorrow night.

Two things came to mind as he snapped his phone shut: are we all so predictable? And secondly, what will his wife serve for dinner tonight?