Overheard at Mozart’s coffee shop:
“I’m much more comfortable in my own skin now. I hope that doesn’t mean I’m going to turn into a jellyfish”
Yes, it’s another blog about being in a coffee shop, but so what, I spend a lot of my time in them. Plus you can take your dog to Mozart’s (deck) which is far preferable in the summer to doing anything with her that involves walking or being in the direct heat.
Mozart’s has quite a sizeable patio area and this afternoon it was very quiet. As usual, Storm and I sat away from the main area and next to the Mediation Center, often misread as the Meditation Center. This isn’t affiliated with Mozart’s, though both services might be helpful to customers given the time it takes to get a drink. (see previous entry re: independent coffee shops). Soon after we were settled, two middle-aged women came and sat at the picnic table next to us. They both sat on the same side which seemed odd and meant that had I been sitting facing forward, I’d be staring right at them. They then started up a loud conversation only a few feet away from me.
I admit that as a comic, I do enjoy observing other people and listening into their conversations. But today I wanted to just sit and let my mind drift. No such luck. I was soon tuned into their irritating ramblings, the only decent part of which was the ‘..comfortable in my own skin’ line. I haven’t taken the line out of context, it came from nowhere but the other woman appeared to immediately understand it and just said ‘I know’. I wish I’d asked for clarification. Are jellyfish known to be more at ease with themselves I wonder? Is it because they don’t have a skeleton? I don’t think they really have skin either, it’s just pure jellyness. How can you even gauge the comfort level. I very much doubt the Portugese man o’ war feels comfortable – everyone hates him and he must be pretty angry to want to go around killing all those people for no particular reason. I suspect the great white shark feels pretty out of sorts a lot of the time.
I think the woman was just menopausal. Which she later proved by bragging that she owned 6 pairs of Birkenstocks in different colours. Today I noticed that she was wearing purple, which matched her t-shirt. I own 8 pairs of Pumas, but they’re all different and I never ever match them with my outfit.
The other woman described herself as a ‘life coach’, which was surprising as she seemed quite mousey and plainly dressed. Surely you don’t want someone as ordinary looking as you are to help sort out the mess in your life. Where’s the motivation? A bit of lipstick would at least have zinged her up a bit. Apparently though, being a life coach had made her more self-aware. Though obviously not to a level where she would notice the person sitting opposite was clearly listening in and making notes for a rather dull blog.