Conversation on the Bus
There are some conversations. That shouldn’t happen. On a bus.
Because only one side is heard. By those nearby. It seems private. But it isn’t.
He started the call when I got on. And ended it when I got off. I only heard his half. But it was too much.
Here is his side of the conversation. Boiled down. To the core.
Hi. Did you go?
Planned Parenthood?
You should have asked me. You would have saved a lot of cab fare if you had gone to Planned Parenthood.
Listen to me. Make a photocopy of the bill. This one and the next one. And mail them to him at home or work or whatever. He’s a jerk. Tell him you expect him to pay half. It’s costing you a lot, you know.
You need to learn to be tough Clarise.
When I stepped off the bus. And into the park. Green all around. The conversation. On the bus. Hung in the air. Over the lake. Even after. It ended.
2 Comments:
Because the woman's name was Clarise, I can't help but picture Jodie Foster on the other end of the phone line.
Beautiful post (as usual). I have been reading this blog for a while and I always learn something new.
Thanks,
Dom
Single Dad
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