You’ll hear a lot when you listen in on people’s conversations. This is the second in a series of articles about using my heightened sense of hearing on unsuspecting and suspecting folks talking about the most outlandish subjects.
Here we go folks, part 2:
‘My Bad, Did Your Mom See It?’
Jeronimo* had just moved to a new neighborhood. During his first week, he and his wife enjoyed some alone time in his backyard hot tub. Only they weren’t alone.
The next door neighbor, Cisco*, a teenager just working on his hockey game, blasted practice shots into the net. Cisco heard laughing and splashing so he stopped his practice to try to catch a glimpse of what was going down next door.
He remained quiet.
The splashing and laughing subsided, but it was only because Jeronimo’s wife got out of the tub. Cisco couldn’t see the entire backyard. What he did see was the back door of the house, which Jeronimo’s wife ran toward. Maybe she was getting a couple of beers, some extra towels or perhaps, some prophylactics. Jeronimo’s wife had a great ass, Cisco thought; too bad he couldn’t see the rest of her.
It was too dangerous to keep staring. He might have caught a look at Jeronimo as well; Cisco didn’t want that.
Jeronimo was a friendly guy, funny at times, and had Cisco been older, the two might have become good friends. But Cisco was still in high school and Jeronimo was in his late twenties or early thirties. The neighbors got along, although Cisco wasn’t too pleased when Jeronimo hit his car while backing out of his driveway.
Two incidents in particular caused a great deal of strife for the youngster. Cisco hadn’t seen the Mike Tyson-Evander Holyfield fight — the one in which Tyson bit Holyfield’s ear — so Jeronimo was nice enough to let Cisco borrow the tape. Yes, this was a while ago, no DVD, DVR, USB or stream.
Cisco and his dad sat down to watch the fight. Tyson took a chunk of Holyfield’s ear, chaos erupted then the recording stopped. Those of you familiar with VHS tapes remember that when recordings ended white snow filled the screen. However, this tape didn’t finish with snow.
The snow transitioned to squiggly lines which righted itself after some tracking to a hard-core porno. Jeronimo had taped over an old porn of his and gave it to Cisco to watch!
“Whoa!” Cisco exclaimed as he beelined toward the VCR to eject it. His dad thought nothing of it, whatever. When Cisco confronted his next-door neighbor about the untimely genitals, Jeronimo was shocked.
“My bad, did your mom see it?” Jeronimo asked with genuine concern.
“No, she didn’t.” A heads up would have been nice, Cisco thought. Something to the effect of, “hey, there’s porn after the fight so watch out.”
Jeronimo’s actions didn’t just affect home life, it bled into Cisco’s work as well. Cisco worked down the street at a drive-in dairy. His boss was an old Korean man named Yun-Bok*, a guy notorious for cutting corners by selling beer to minors and extending the expiration dates of milk.
One day, Jeronimo pulled up to the dairy, got out and grabbed a beverage from the refrigerator. He made eye contact with Yun-Bok, took a swig then announced, “I’m taking this.”
This was unusual in an American society, Yun-Bok thought. He wasn’t stealing ‘cause he announced his theft. Maybe Jeronimo thought he was starting a tab or that he’d come back later.
Either way, Jeronimo jumped into his van, started the engine, downed another swig and prepared his getaway.
“I’m going to call police,” Yun-Bok exclaimed.
“Go ahead,” Jeronimo responded. “And while you’re at it, call Vietnam.”
He tore out of that dairy as if he had robbed Terry Benedict’s casinos as opposed to the shitty Diet Coke in his possession, a drink that was probably years old since Yun-Bok still had sodas years after they had changed the look of their cans.
Yun-Bok didn’t even catch on to the racial slur directed toward him. He was more concerned with the heisted Diet Coke.
“You know him? he asked Cisco.
“Yeah, he’s my neighbor.”
“He good guy?”
“I guess,” Cisco said.
“You saw him take? We call police,” Yun-Bok said over and over.
This dialogue went on for half an hour.
“You know him? He good guy? You see him take? We call police.” Yun-Bok went on like this for 30 fucking minutes.
Where Does It End For Benjamin Button?
Mrs. Azua*, a middle school teacher, tried to get in a movie conversation with other teachers during lunchtime.
This teacher wasn’t familiar with any of the movies but she engaged in the conversation anyway.
“Has anyone seen ‘Benjamin Button?’”
Most of the teachers said they had. It was unclear if she had seen it, however, she was familiar with the plot.
“What happens to him in the end? Does he turn into a sperm?”
Mrs. Azua wasn’t trying to be funny. She honestly believed Brad Pitt’s character wilted down to a sperm. You know, since Hollywood is in the business of transforming its big stars into jizz.
* Names have been changed