One of the skills my mother taught me. I remember... spending countless hours eating lunch with her in some fastfood resturaunt or another... in total silence, simply listening to the conversations of those around us. I don't remember Mom consciencely teaching me... I just remember her pointing out a few things here and there... and eventually it became our game. I'm sure we made quite a pair.... a mother and her youngest son... sitting in silence... exchanging only knowing glances when a particularly juicy detail was dropped. Most times we would stifle our laughter for fear that we might miss something good.
This habit has stuck with me. In fact... its one that I probably couldn't break if I tried. I do it without thinking... and I have to check myself continually, because I'll hear something, and I'll start to point it out... then I realize that the company I am keeping really wouldn't get it.
Fortunately my dear wife has picked it up.
Last night we were at the mall letting the boys play, and we stopped off to tank up on some nasty mall food. Ahh.. is there anyplace better to eavesdrop than a crowed mall food court? I think not.
The natives did not disappoint.
3 trendy college girls sat behind me... and lo did we recieve an education.
***Warning. Honest depiction of college whore talk below. The young, old, pregnant, nursing, short, poor, and easily offended should procede with caution.***
Girl 1: So like... Why him?
Girl 2: Well.. first of all.. His family fits the criteria. I could like him just for that... but like... its more than that. What about you?
Girl 1: I like John... well.. I mean... The sex is just fucking incredible. Well.. lastnight wasn't so good... but normally its unbelievable.
Girl 2: What went wrong last night?
Girl 1: He was acting all sensitive and stuff... ya know? He was being all gentle with me... and lovey dovey...
Girl 2: God I hate that shit...
Girl 1: I know! Its like... just fuck me dammit! Jam it in there! I don't care who you love right now... I'm tryin' to get off.
Girl 2: Exactly! Pull my hair... call me a bitch!
I managed to not crack up. Mostly. DrWho didn't hear all of it, but she heard enough. The bit about family criteria would've made the whole event worth-while on its own... the rest was just bonus... oh sure.. it was pure gold bonus... but bonus none-the-less.
Boys... It's buyer beware. I simply cannot in good conscience recommend you to marry. Its quite clear to me that this generation is freakin' psycho.
So yes... I will be arranging marriages for my sons... at age 13... to well raised pretty little blonde girls of excellent southron genes. Its the only way I'll be able to insure I'll get to see my grandkids.
No offense to any of your posterity Spacebunny.