It was a lovely day, so I sat out on the patio. Not long after I sat down, and before I put on my headphones, a young man and an older woman sat down at the table next to mine. He was nineteen or twenty, and she looked to be in her forties or fifties–sort of frumpy and maternal. The way they interacted, she was clearly his mother or maybe an aunt.
I didn’t intentionally eavesdrop, but they were right next to me. She was talking to him about the decisions he was making in his life, what he was doing about his future, that sort of thing.
As I got my keyboard and all set up, I sort of made up their story in my head… This was his mom or some other close relative–maybe even a young grandmother–taking him out to coffee so she could tell him to get his life together. I wondered a bit about them, whether he was really as much of a slacker as she made it sound, if he thought her advice was worth anything, that sort of thing.
Then I put on my headphones and started typing.
A while later, I happened to look up and saw that they were enthusiastically, energetically, even aggressively, making out. She was practically in his lap and there were tongues everywhere.
It was horrible. The worst part was, I’d been writing a romantic scene, and I just had to stop. I watched youtube videos for the next hour, and shook.
I’m sure it was not actually his mother. Obviously, it was his older girlfriend, and he probably looked young for his age and maybe she’d had a hard life and was younger than I realized.
But according to what I’d already made my mind up about, he was making out with his mother. Or aunt. Or young-looking grandmother. It was horrible.
I’d like to think I’ve learned my lesson, and will never eavesdrop or make up stories about patrons again. But it’s not like you can always help it, right?