I have taken to occasionally recording people’s conversations in public places when they sound interesting.
I have no defence.
I could say it is sociologically interesting, but it is really just aural voyeurism and because the iPhone makes it so easy.
Yesterday, I heard a conversation in a Costa coffee shop. A woman was talking to her friend. I have changed the names of the people and the city mentioned. I could hear the two women talk clearly enough to record them on an iPhone in my shirt pocket, so I am sure others could hear them.
This sort of thing is like performance art for the community. It must be therapeutic. It should get a grant from the Arts Council.
What the iPhone recorded went like this…
* * * * *
…so it was like a Christmas Day nervous breakdown and it ended with me hyperventilating on the stairs for an hour and a half.
That was the year before last.
Last year, well, there I was, flat-out and chucked for another woman. But it gets better… Peter left crying on Boxing Day and obviously, if a man leaves the woman he’s chucked and HE’S the upset one, then you can only assume it’s not particularly serious. But ALL my friends thought I was deranged when I kept insisting it wasn’t over. It was like the verbal pat-on-the-head stuff – There there… There are plenty more fish in the sea – All of that stuff.
The girl had been at a conference where he’d been speaking and he said he couldn’t resist this girl in the front row who stared up at him with googly admiration. She’s 33, five foot ten, with long black hair. I still hate her.
Actually, that’s not true. I actually feel sorry for her now.
Two days later and he’d phoned me twice to see how I was. Then he phoned every other day. I eventually asked him when he had the time to phone her. She lived in Cork. She’s moved since. He told me he’d rather talk to me. Mind you, that didn’t stop him flying over to Cork in the New Year to finish it with her and taking advantage of her in the bathroom.
The final nail was when he phoned me to find me, with flu, in bed with David. Not that we’d done anything although, between you and me, David hadn’t had a bonk since April – he still hasn’t had a bonk – and he virtually raped me at one point. I managed to escape to the bathroom. It all happens in the bathroom and it’s all exciting stuff when you’re recovering from flu.
It’s got better with Peter since then and when I… We’d better leave. Danny will be back soon…
* * * * *
This woman has a bestselling sex book in her.
I wonder if Danny knows what he is letting himself in for…