One of my secret, treasured pastimes is people-watching. Or better: benevolently eavesdropping. I do this by going into a café alone, ordering a coffee, sipping it slowly and just being non-descript. Before long, the people around me forget I’m there and carry on their conversations as freely as though they were in their own living room.
Last week, for example, I learnt all about the argument one woman had had with her husband that morning before work (he hadn’t offered to pick her up after her doctor’s appointment = he didn’t care about her = he was a mean, undeserving excuse for a man).
I watched the way the woman’s friend listened to the story of the argument, nodding her head sympathetically and sneaking a glance at her watch. I saw the friend take a little gift out of her bag and offer it to the other woman. I snuck a look at the woman’s face as she opened the gift and I saw the tiniest flicker of disappointment in her eyes just before she exclaimed how beautiful it was and launched into a grateful bise.
There is no purpose to this people-watching. And, I must stress, it’s a totally non-judgemental activity: I don’t do it to sneer at people or feel superior. Not at all. I’m just fascinated by other people, and the way they are and interact with each other. Maybe I also see something of myself in everybody else, in the details.
It’s like reality TV, only far, far better, because the people I secretly observe are just being themselves, not performing for a TV camera.
Does anyone else have a secret hobby like this?
People-watching is ultimately harmless, and, in its defence, the cost-enjoyment ratio is very favourable.
On Saturday afternoon, however, it was my turn to go to the salon de thé with a group of three girlfriends. We laughed loudly and chatted freely about everything under the sun. And I wondered at one point: is anyone listening in? Pretending to read a magazine yet secretly observing us?
But as soon as I’d wondered this, I realised that it really didn’t matter at all. Being on the “other side” is just as much fun: a spectator turned actor for a couple of hours.
There is no purpose to this people-watching. And, I must stress, it’s a totally non-judgemental activity: I don’t do it to sneer at people or feel superior. Not at all. I’m just fascinated by other people, and the way they are and interact with each other. Maybe I also see something of myself in everybody else, in the details.
It’s like reality TV, only far, far better, because the people I secretly observe are just being themselves, not performing for a TV camera.
Does anyone else have a secret hobby like this?
People-watching is ultimately harmless, and, in its defence, the cost-enjoyment ratio is very favourable.
On Saturday afternoon, however, it was my turn to go to the salon de thé with a group of three girlfriends. We laughed loudly and chatted freely about everything under the sun. And I wondered at one point: is anyone listening in? Pretending to read a magazine yet secretly observing us?
But as soon as I’d wondered this, I realised that it really didn’t matter at all. Being on the “other side” is just as much fun: a spectator turned actor for a couple of hours.
3 comments:
It must be the writer in you that is so interested in the conversation of strangers! I'm the opposite. When I go for a coffee I'm usually trying to read my book and at the same time blot out the intrusive, loud conversation of the people at the next table.
Discrete, private conversations seem to be a thing of the past. These days people don't seem to care if their conversations are overheard - be it intimate revelations or total trivia.
I can't decide whether they are so full of themselves that they just don't notice anyone else around them and don't realise they are inflicting their conversation on us or whether they do know we're there and are using us as their captive (and in my case unwilling) audience.
Either way, I may soon have to invest in some ear plugs if I want to enjoy a quiet coffee and a read!
Hi Shirl! Love the blog, thanks for sending me the link. I'm all caught up with your posts and wanted to make a comment on every single one, but decided that might look a little stalker-ish.
But this post demanded I comment, since I too, love to listen and observe other people deep in conversation. But it can be a risky business. I once made and incredibly embarassing mistake in the sport of people watching/ listening.
I was on the subway here in Toronto, sitting next to two girls in their early 20s (remember those days?) going on and on about an email that had been sent to a boss, with lots of omigod, like, do you think she's gonna fire me, and duuuuuude, you totally shouldn't have sent it, but like, I'm so glad you dids being volleyed back and forth.
I sat for about 5 stops listening to these two debating the pros and cons of sending the email when finally I could stand it no longer, leaned across to them and said, "I'm terribly sorry, but I just HAVE to know what you said in your email!". Criiiiiiinge.
Well, they both looked horrified that I'd been listening, muttered that it was nothing and stopped talking altogether. I cheerfully smiled at them, stood up and got off at the next stop, which was of course, 6 stops before my final desitination. Oh the embarrassment!
Lesson learned. Look, listen, but don't talk. Just remember to blog about it later.
Take care,
Pascale
Hi Pascale!
I don't have much time but just wanted to say welcome on board and thanks so much for your lovely comments! I've enjoyed your blog for so long now that it's only fair to offer something in return
;-) That eavesdropping story is hilarious: I'm so often tempted to interrupt and give my opinion, too...
Happy Christmas & see you soon,
Shirl
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