Too Much is Not Enough

How many of us have listened in to other people’s conversations? All of us I suspect.

I remember sitting in the hospital car park while my husband went in for tests. I was too much of a wimp to go in with him because it was too soon after my mum had died there.

It was a pleasant day and I had the window open and my notebook at the ready waiting for inspiration to strike, when manna from heaven came floating in the window.

The man in the car next to me was on his mobile phone. I have his conversation (up to a certain point) written exactly word for word somewhere if only I knew where to find it.

He was having a row with his wife. Something about putting the dog in kennels while they went on holiday. It transpired that the time he had booked off for their holiday wasn’t the same as the date she’d booked and of course it was all her fault!

I even got some of her side of it as he frequently repeated what she said with sneering disbelief.

The row got more and more heated and there I was with one ear hanging out of the window (I have very big ears) writing every word down . . .

Then it went quiet.

I looked up, pen poised and I’m sure I gave him an impatient look that said, “Go on . . .” Maybe I even said it. Who knows? He glared at me and his window slid up. That is the certain point where I was forcibly ejected from the conversation.

He carried on ranting with the occasional furtive glance in my direction – and then he moved his car to another space. He wasn’t using the hospital – just their car park. I think he’d pulled in there for the sole purpose of shouting at his wife.

That is the moment I realised that I had an obsession. Looking back I think it was a terrible thing to do, but then again . . . the way he spoke to his wife was what was terrible. I may have been making notes, but I was also cheering her on and silently urging her to take the holiday he'd left her to arrange and leave him behind.

I haven’t used any of that conversation. It was too much which meant for my purposes it was not enough. A snippet overheard, an intriguing sentence, a strange question – I find my stories there. But I'm sure I've used him a few times - arrogant, spoiling for a fight, ready to blame anyone but himself when things go wrong.


Or have I got him wrong? Was he overworked and tired? No, that's hindsight talking. I was there, I heard him and my impression wasn't of someone overworked and tired. And perhaps there is a story there, or more than one. Hm, perhaps I should be writing that instead of blog-a-logging . . .