We all dish the dirt. We love to gossip. It used to be that the
office water-cooler was the place to overhear conversations.
We all dish the dirt. We love to gossip. It used to be that the office water-cooler was the place to overhear conversations. With today’s technology, a person’s voice can be heard by inadvertently sending an e-mail with the subject line “nasty rumor.” Today, a person’s voice can be heard by inadvertently leaving their microphone on while on television.
Recently, a major “oops” occurred when CNN anchor Kyra Phillips used the ladies room during her break and launched into a personal conversation. Unaware that her wireless microphone was live, Phillips’ dialogue could be heard over President Bush’s speech. What she said made for national news – and I’ll bet an uncomfortable, rather forthcoming Thanksgiving dinner with her sister-in-law.
We’ve all said things in private that unfortunately were overheard, but luckily for the average person, the faux pas are not aired on national television. The more embarrassing the faux pas, the more we love it.
There’s even a Web site – www.overheardinnewyork.com – dedicated to exposing private conversations. That gives credence to this. It is a testament that intentional or unintentional eavesdropping is an audio voyeuristic pleasure for many people.
The Web site became an instant hit and spawned a book. Morgan Friedman, the founder and publisher, started it three years ago when he overheard a conversation in New York, thought it was funny and created the site to capture such moments. The fact that the site – which is a mix of funny and vulgar – gets 4 million views a month supports my belief that overheard conversations can delight us, titillate us and be music to our ears.
Take, for example, a conversation I overheard between my son and his friend (who happens to be a girl) in the bathroom in our house:
Friend: “First, take a deep breath and relax. You ready to begin?”
Son: “Yes, I’m ready, but I’m nervous.”
Friend: “Don’t be nervous. I’ll guide you. Listen to me and do as I say.”
Son: “OK, since you do this daily, you’re the expert.”
Friend: “Let’s begin. First, we’ll look at it. See? It’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Son: “It’s still scary to me.”
Friend: “Well, first we need to clean it so it’s good to go in.”
Son: “OK, it’s good to go.”
Friend: “All right, hold it like so. Look this way, slowly guide it and it will pop right in.”
Son: “Oops, I dropped it. Little sucker is kind of hard to see.”
Friend: “Don’t worry. Everybody has trouble the first time. We’ll start again. Your hands are trembling. Don’t be nervous. It won’t bite you. Touch it and feel how mushy it is.”
Son: “I’ll get it this time. The closer I get to putting it in, the more nervous I get.”
Friend: “Here, let me help you. Great, you did it! Now, how does it feel?”
Son: “It feels kind of weird.”
Friend: “Soon you’ll be able to keep it in all day and not feel a thing. OK, now let’s take it out. It’s the same, only in reverse.”
Son: “Give me a second. I need to get a grip on it.”
Friend: “Oh, just pull it out already. Don’t be such a baby. Here, let me do it. Don’t move. There, it’s out. Now, put it away. Keep practicing and you’ll be a pro in no time. Call me tomorrow if you need help, and I’ll come over. We’ll do it in a different room with more lighting, so you’ll be able to see it better up close and personal.”
Son: “Thanks for the help.”
Friend: “I’ve got to go. I told my mom we’d be done in less than five minutes. Bye.”
Son: “Goodbye.”
Now that you’ve all painted yourselves a pretty picture – shame on all of you. My son’s friend was teaching him how to put his contacts in and take them out.
I think we can all agree that sometimes there’s nothing better than overhearing a conversation – and putting an overactive imagination to good use.
Cindy Argiento is a free-lance columnist who lives in North Carolina with her family. She may be contacted at ca*******@*ol.com.
