Tête-à-Tête

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We were walking along the boardwalk in Ocean Park one summer evening, arm in arm, my friend Sid and me, when we saw a familiar sight on one of the benches just ahead, not far from the surf.

«Look,» I said, «and listen.»

We looked and listened.

There was this old Jewish couple, he I would say about seventy and she maybe sixty-five, moving their mouths and hands at the same time, everyone talking, nobody listening.

«I told you more than once,» he said.

«What did you tell? Nothing!» she said.

«Something,» he said, «I'm always telling you something. Of great importance if you'd give a try.»

«Great importance, listen to him!» she said rolling her eyes. «Give me a list!»

«Well, about the wedding…»

«Still the wedding?»

«Sure! The waste, the confusion.»

«Who was confused?»

«I could show you―»

«Don't show. Look, I'm deaf!»

Et cetera, et cetera.

«I wish I had a tape recorder,» I said.

«Who needs a tape recorder,» Sid replied. «I could say what I just heard. Call me at three in the morning and I'll quote.»

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