Laughter flows from the dressing room next to me. Lots of laughter.

“What?” woman one asks.

“It has stripes. That’s not going to work” her friend says.

“No. You try it on” woman one replies.

“Why? So then I can feel as bad as you do?” her friend says.

“Try it on.” woman one requests of her friend again.

“Hey. You didn’t even right side it.” her friend observes.

“What?” woman one says.

“You didn’t turn it right side out.” her friend says

“I didn’t want it on my body a moment longer.” woman one says.

More laughter from both ladies.

“Oh, this wouldn’t look good on anybody. That Mexican food we ate isn’t helping.” her friend replies.

I move a little quicker to get my regular clothes back on in hopes of catching a glimpse of the offending garment perhaps being slung over the top of the dressing room door. No such luck.

I am tempted to ask for a quick look at the striped garment. But, I think twice, not wanting to risk being thought of or acted upon as a voyeur. Oh, yes, I was a voyeur, a voyeur of the ears today. And I will never know just what that striped garment was that the friends were bonding over.