Tag: mischief

  • part 1: the art of listening in

    part 1: the art of listening in

    The phone rang in the kitchen and the living room. It was a dual line—pretty cool, because you could listen to other people’s conversations. As an 11-year-old, I found that both naughty and fun. I didn’t care for the actual conversations; it was rather the act of doing something I didn’t think I was meant to that felt exciting.

    Step one: Quickly check everyone’s whereabouts. You don’t want anyone walking in on you. If your brother’s napping, make sure he’s fully out. (Note: DON’T put a pillow over his head or anything silly like that.) If your dad is watching the TV, great—if it’s Formula 1 or Forrest Gump, even better. Then calm down, take a deep breath and…

    Step two: Pick up the phone. Ideally you’d pick it up at the same time as the person for whom the call is meant. That’s easier said than done. Catching the exact moment is rare because you, as a young man, have all kinds of other mischief to get up to rather than sitting about waiting for the phone to ring. That’s why you’d usually come into a full-blown conversation, which makes a seamless and noiseless pick-up a necessity. You learn through trial and error.

    This means you might be confronted, from time to time, about whether or not you picked up the phone while Mum was talking to her friend about an upcoming trip to IKEA. If your intention is improvement, it’s in your best interest to deny it—and you might need to do so several times.

    Step three: Cover the microphone. Essential, if you’re planning on staying incognito. Holding your breath only doesn’t work—I learned that the hard way (confrontation followed by denial). The microphone picks up any noise that’s loud enough in your environment. Examples of those could be the microwave signaling the cheese has melted on your nachos, your dog telling you off for eavesdropping, or the other parent asking what the heck you’re doing with that phone.

    The latter means you failed step one.

    In any case, use the juicy part of the palm of your hand to firmly press against the built-in mic. It works. Nothing goes through.

    Step four: Listen carefully—to the conversation and to your surroundings. Know when to put the phone down without getting caught. Nine times out of ten, the conversations are dull—no secrets, no sensations, no juice. Just everyday shite. I suppose I might have started listening in out of being nosy, but I quickly realized there was no thrill in knowing what other people say or do when you’re not with them.

    Yet, I would pick up the phone time and time again.