Pork chops with a side of eavesdropping
This weekend I met my new next-door neighbor, a very nice young lady. I also met her boyfriend. The walls in my complex do an amazing job of keeping the sound out… except that our kitchens are connected. If they’re cooking something, I can hear what they’re saying.
I like the idea that I’ll have an intimate knowledge of their relationship, but only as it relates to food.
For example, if I hear her say, “Pasta fagioli soup, coming right up!” I’ll know that she’s made him pasta fagioli soup and that it’s ready. Or if she says, “I’m still mad at you for not apologizing. I’m making pork chops,” I’ll know that she’s probably mad at him for not apologizing and that she’s going to make him pork chops. And if she says, “I think that jew who lives next door to us can hear things we say to each other in the kitchen,” I’ll know that I’ve been caught.
