Lady In Red

When they discover the center of the universe, a lot of people will be disappointed to learn they're not it.

    - Bernard Bailey, American corporate executive

Earlier today I decided to visit one of my favorite little brunch spots and indulge myself a bit. Shortly after I found a comfortable spot to sit, the waitress showed up and took my order: a fluffy seafood omelet, a bowl of creamy grits, one hot buttermilk biscuit, grape jam and a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. I could hardly wait. 

As I settled into my chair I noticed four young ladies being directed to a table near me. Judging from their attire I assumed they were business people and perhaps on their lunch break. 

One of them, dressed in a red sweater and black skirt, was expressing herself rather animatedly as they seated themselves. She continued her discourse as the menus were distributed, was briefly interrupted as orders were taken, and continued chattering as they waited for their meal.

I was mildly amused as I watched her companions' reactions to the monologue. One was feigning interest, making occasional eye contact but interacting not a whit. The other two had these blank stares on their faces, obviously not doing a very good job of concealing their lack of interest. Ms. Chatterbox was oblivious to all of it. She just kept right on talking.

My meal arrived which usually signals the end of any people watching I may be doing. I dug in, intending to concentrate on feeding my face, but continued to be distracted by the lady in red. She was, as some less tactful than I might put it, a real motor mouth.

I spent about 45 minutes from when I sat down until I left the restaurant and she blathered on the entire time I was there. I never could figure out what great truths she was sharing with her three friends. I doubt if they could either.

It was obvious to me after watching and listening for the better part of an hour that she didn't have a clue that she was the only person talking. I left wondering if her three friends would be riding back with her to wherever they worked and if the remainder of the afternoon would be a continuation of what went on at their luncheon. I hope that it wasn't, but I fear that it was.

Update: Listening--David Cornfield tells us how it's done in Why We Don't Listen. Perhaps the lady in red reads my weblog. Awww, that would be asking too much.