Different02 May 2017
On Sunday evening, late on Sunday evening I took my youngest daughter to the town’s Urgent Care Centre, to help with the onset of a sudden and particularly painful ear infection. We were there for just about 2-3/4 hours, came away with advice and antibiotics.
A few minutes after we got there a young lady and her daughter plonked themselves down in the middle of the room, mother with a phone glued to her ear. Not literally, that’d be a bit odd. Maybe not in a hospital at 10:45pm though?
Anyway, while in the waiting room the phone was in use continuously for 2 hours. Not sporadically no, she was chatting all the time.
But I still haven’t got to the point.
She has a husband. In the early hours of the morning the conversation changed from idle chat (I couldn’t help but hear) to something more ‘adult.’ You know, the sort of stuff of the bedroom. No, not ‘Stop taking the covers you…’ or a long and heated conversation on snoring. No. Emphatically no. But heated? Yes, oh yes, yes, yes, etc.
Telling hubby what she would do to him when she got home, what she wanted him to do to her. Exceedingly graphic. So I attempted to hide, to bury myself in my tiny phone screen. To ignore the waves of words as best I could.
Not good enough. Not by a long way.
Especially when the conversation reached a certain peak and she said she’d have to go to the toilet to…
No. Just no.
Yeah, I did indeed delete some words. Naughty words. Well, naughty words used in a certain context.