Emma and Mark had a whole conversation about how knock off Dr. Pepper changes the pepper instead of the doctor (see: Walmart's Dr. Thunder, Shasta's Dr. Shasta).
They talked about what if they kept the pepper instead. Mr. Pepper, Captain Pepper, Rear Admiral Pepper, Professor Pepper, Reverend Pepper....
Being entertained by other peoples' conversations is a good pastime.
Cringing at their conversations? Not so much.
Adam and I went out for Indian food on Friday and we were seated in a quiet back corner of the restaurant. Well, quiet besides the nearby table of loud talkers. These two women talked loudly about things I'd rather not hear. They they bemoaned and described their terrible mothers (lots of detailed anecdotes!), how a family member told one of them on Christmas that her leopard print shoes made her look like a tart (those are my words--I'll spare you the actual description), and a chronicle of all the mental illness and how the (terrible) mother didn't understand and judged because of it.
We tried to ignore them. We tried to have our own conversation. We kind of succeeded but we mostly looked at each other sort of incredulously. I did text Emma snippets of the conversation though because I always text Emma when something awkward is happening in my life.
Besides, I knew she would appreciate the well placed "tryna" that was part of the conversation.
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