Private in Public

 

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While waiting for my car to be serviced this morning, I was among a captive audience of seven or eight people within earshot of a conversation between two women who, it appeared, were strangers to one another.

A sympathetic comment after a big yawn was the opening salvo for a flood of stories about troubled sleep ("I didn't want to get out of bed this morning!"), family drama ("I don't understand what they're doing!"), darling grandchildren ("They're my heart!") and the grands' seemingly clueless parents ("He did wrong, but he's my son, so I have to back him up!").

I had taken a book to read but struggled to stay focused as the ladies shared all manner of family business -- pending divorces, children being used as weapons, the sanctity of widowhood, God's providence, etc.

One lady recounted how her daughter-in-law put news of her failing marriage on Facebook and complained when the husband's cousins weighed in. ("She had no business putting it out there!")

The service department was overrun this morning, so the ladies had lots of time to share and commiserate.

The sociologist in me wondered why it was so easy for them to "pour the tea" as they did.

Was it the anonymity of the customer lounge, where people also gab loudly on their phones?

Did these ladies enjoy the attention from the rest of us that their conversation pulled?

What would their families say if they knew Grandma was telling strangers about them?

This being "private in public" is nothing new, but it feels different, like folks need even MORE validation and connection than they did in the past.

Which, if true, is surprising, considering how pervasive social media "connections" are today.

But, on the other hand, maybe social media "connections" aren't authentic and leave folks wanting more -- like being six feet away.