More specifically concerning: overheard
6.02.02 – Wednesday
6 February 2002, around 7.46.
Overheard conversation: ‘Yea, honey, you know I don’t love you, but I just want to f—k you,’ and you know I’m just saying, ‘I’m sorry, but you’re not even going to get to do that,’ if you know what I mean.’ ‘Yea, I totally understand. They always try to control relationships; they’re so selfish. I […]
13.02.02 – Wednesday
13 February 2002, around 7.50.
Stopping by the grocers for a carton of yogurt, I chanced to be behind a small red-haired woman who held up her young son for the clerk’s inspection. Aforementioned Son steadfastly averted his eyes from aforementioned Clerk, and snivelled. ‘Say you’re sorry. We’re not going until you say you’re sorry. I’m telling you…’ Son began […]
27.02.02 – Wednesday
27 February 2002, around 7.38.
Hmm. Tired. Woke this morning to the smell of perfectly toasted bread and scrambled eggs – from someone else’s apartment. Overheard: ‘I only like art that I agr-ee with…’ – the words ‘art’ and ‘agree’ being intoned through the nose. ‘And yeah, like, Harvard is really cool and everything, but I just don’t know… and, […]
2.05.02 – Thursday
1 May 2002, around 19.56.
The workmen spoke in iambic pentameter, a swift and toneless sequence of stressed and unstressed, not languid or melodic, but with a choppy sharpness, unconscious precision and imprecise annoyance. Curiously, the word ‘f—k’ could take any metrical position, as the sentiment or the phrase required.