overheard

I meant to write this a while back but it totally slipped my mind until Tyler requested that I re-tell this story to his family when we visited this past weekend. So here it is:

Several weeks ago, I was shopping at Ann Taylor LOFT because they were having a storewide sale. I picked out a couple of shorts and sweaters to try on and went to the dressing room, where there were two Indian American girls in the stalls next to me. I had noticed them earlier b/c they looked to be about my age and I was totally and completely jealous that they were laughing and shopping together while I foraged the racks by all by my lonesome.

Anyway, they continued their spirited discussions in the dressing room. Being a shameless eavesdropper and having a lot of experience in girl-talk, my ears immediately perked up at the first whiff of gossip. (The tone in which you gossip is universal, I believe.) This is the amazing conversation that took place:

Girl A: So you know how my brother is living with that girl that he's totally not sleeping with? I mean, like everyone knows that they're sleeping together, but they insist that they're just friends?

Girl B: Oh yeah, totally. Are your parents still pissed about that?

A: Oh absolutely. Because they don't believe them for a second! And you know, they're still very traditional Indian, and they really disapprove of the fact that he's living with this girl. I mean, my brother's all like "We have two bedrooms, and we're just friends," but it's like, seriously? My parents aren't stupid.

B: Right, right. Parents always know.

A: Exactly. Always. So anyway, a couple weeks ago, my parents went over to my brother's for dinner. You know, they meet the girl, and my brother's still insisting that they're just friends and everything. So my mom is walking around the apartment, and I guess they have a cabinet of like nice silverware and whatever. So my mom is looking at it, and she's like "Oh, this is a very beautiful spoon." And the girl comes over and is like "Yes, thank you," and they talk about the spoon and my mom just keeps on admiring it. Like she really likes this spoon. But they go on, they have dinner and my parents leave, and everything is fine, right?

B: Uh oh.

A: Right. Well, a couple days after the dinner, the girl goes up to my brother and is like "I'm not accusing your mom or anything, but the thing is, you know that spoon she was looking at when she came over? Well, it's missing and I can't find it anywhere, and I think maybe she might've taken it." And my brother is like "No way, she couldn't have stolen it." And the girl is like "Well, like I said, I don't want to accuse your mom, but I know she really liked it, and now it's gone."

B: No! No way! Nooooo!! She didn't?!?! There's no way!!!!

A: Hang on, just wait! So finally my brother calls my mom a few days ago and is like "Mom, I'm not accusing you of stealing my roommate's spoon, but the fact is, it's missing from our apartment and she remembers that you really liked it." And my mom goes, "Well, I'm not accusing you of sleeping with that girl, but the fact is, if she was really sleeping in her own bed, she would've found that spoon by now."

/end

I. LOVE. IMMIGRANT. PARENTS.