"You have a boyfriend? Well, I have a wife."

She laughs and plays with a lock of hair around her ear.

It's not that I mean to eavesdrop, but shoot, words like that have a way of gripping one's curiosity, you know? Their table was to my right, just within my peripheral vision.

"Well, I don't see him all the time. He works a lot, you know."

"I work a lot too. But my wife travels all the time, so I'm usually home alone."

Oh man—I hit the jackpot! This was going to be one interesting conversation!

"Really? How long is she usually gone for?"

"Weeks at a time. She's gone right now."

She giggled. "Oh boy. You must be lonely."

Damn! It was like my very own live soap opera. I listened on.

"So how about your boyfriend?" He took a gulp of his coffee.

"He's okay. He's nice to me, but…"

"But what?"

"Well, how can I say this without being mean?"

"Just say it like it is. No regrets."

"No regrets, okay. He's a little lacking in the bedroom department."

"You mean he's got a…" he holds two fingers up an inch apart.

"No, no, I mean he's just not very good."

"Haven't had a good orgasm in a while, huh?"

I moved my chair closer to them.

"Yea. For half a year now."

"Damn! Half a year! How do you get by?"

She raises her hand and wiggles her fingers. He chuckles.

"Well, I think you're due for one soon."

"Oh yea? How soon?"

"As soon as we get our check." He frantically waves at the waiter and throws a twenty at the guy. They get up and cross by my table on their way out.

I stare at the guy like I had just seen Spiderman. He looks at me, looks at her ass, and gives me a wink. Then they walk out of the coffee shop.

. . .

What was the last conversation you've heard?