Listen Up

Walk down any street in New York City and the distractions are many. There are the buildings and structures which make up an urban landscape unlike any other in the world. There are the smells, some pleasant, some less than that, that waft from storefronts and restaurants, from bodegas and street vendors. And there are the people, a vibrant mix showcasing every ethnicity, sexuality, size and shape wrapped in a dizzying array of attire that defines every nook and cranny of the fashion world.

Added to all of that are the sounds. Traffic, to be sure, a humming mass that rises and falls from street to street and neighborhood to neighborhood. There are industrial noises, be they buildings being built up or torn down, streets being repaired or installed, or construction projects creating some unidentifiable piece of infrastructure that seem to never end. And then there are the voices, spitting out a dizzying array of languages and accents that merge into a wall of sound that would make Phil Spector proud.

Like a living white noise machine, it all blends into a wave of sound that you just learn to tune out. Many avoid it by plugging their ears with buds or covering them with earphones to pipe their own personalized soundtrack directly into their brain. And still others put those same earbuds in but don't connect them to anything, the modern equivalent of stuffing cotton upside your head.

But if you do listen, well, the rewards are great. That living, breathing mass of humanity talks about anything and everything, often with little concern as to what they are saying and who might be overhearing it. But it's not just what they say but how they say it. Keep your ears cocked, and the tidbits you can glean are pure gold, the stuff that the best writers in in Hollywood and at the New Yorker struggle to come up with to fill their outlets. Thankfully, many do mine that vein and submit them to Overheard in New York.

Started some 20 years ago, the site takes submissions from anyone who, well, overhears something worth passing on. As it's not a unique situation that only happens here, the site has produced a number of spinoffs, some focusing on other metropolitan areas (Dublin and Philadelphia to name a few), others on various locales (Overheard at the Beach and Overheard at the Office). But it all started, and one can argue continues to define the state-of-the-art, right here. To wit, some examples.

"He told me he's a minimalist and I was just, like, no babe, your apartment is just furnished by IKEA."

"So my gynecologist called to give me he the results of my hormonal test and she said everything was normal. I asked her why I get in such bad moods and she said 'maybe you are just miserable with your life.'"

"It's funny how the phrase 'He's following me' has evolved from terrifying into something to be proud of."

Woman: "We had a nice time, but you know he still lives with his parents." Her friend: "You mean in their West Village townhouse? Come on now, let's play the long game here."

Cop next to a woman on a bicycle: "Miss, you're going way too fast on that bike. Slow down." Woman on bike: "Or what? Am I under arrest for emitting zero Co2 and having incredibly strong legs?"

Flight attendant to passenger: "I'll fly any route, except New York-Miami. Those people are the worst."

Woman: "I don't go north of 14th Street." Her friend: "Umm, you're wearing Ann Taylor and pumps, so even sartorially, this is just a lie."

"Could you make all four of my drinks show up as tacos on the receipt." I'm putting this on the company card as a business lunch."

Woman: "You don't like it when guys wear earrings?" Her companion: "I don't know, it just feels like I'm having sex with Captain Hook."

Woman: "How's living with your boyfriend?" Her companion: "It's interesting! He's the love of my life, but if he forgets to refill the ice tray one more time they'll find his body floating in the Hudson River."

"Don't do it too often, but if you feel really lonely, call ConEd and tell them you smell gas. They'll send live five firemen over immediately."

Man: " What's wrong, baby?" Woman: "Don't you call me baby. You can only call me baby when we are on good terms, and right now we are not on good terms."

With the aforementioned evidence making a convincing case, one can argue that the Big Apple represents the ne plus ultra of the genre. However, there is gold everywhere you listen; all you have to do is keep your ears open. Just the other day, at a local charity where I volunteer, a woman was dropping off a donation. She was asking one of the other volunteers if they could return the container her donation came in or one similar to it. Her request: "I don't want a lighter one, just one that weighs less." Seinfeld could do no better.

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford loves to listen to the surrounding chatter as he roams His column appears weekly via email and online http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/ and https://marcwollin.substack.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.