Hannah Hecht's Blog

At first, I took our “Listen” assignment as an excuse to eavesdrop on my teammates during our Sunday study hall in a quiet HPER classroom. Unfortunately, on the ceiling directly above me was a rushing air vent, which obstructed a lot of my hearing. The air conditioner made the kind of sound that you could ignore until you noticed it, but after that first burst of insight, it would become deafening. It sounded like it was working really hard to produce that loud rushing sound, but it didn’t produce much else. Throughout our hour study hall, the room stayed uncomfortably muggy. The vent seemed like it just wanted us to think it was doing its job, like when your mom sends you up to clean your room, so you make a lot of noise to prove how hard you are working, but the room doesn’t get any cleaner.

But, anyway, here are some of the lines of conversation that I was able to discern. Most of them came from the sophomore sitting two chairs away with a heavy Chicago accent.

“Oh my god, I forgot my calculator”

“I should get my friend from Germany to come here.”

“It’s like, freaking obnoxious calling.”

“My friends are like in love with him.”

“Do you, like, always have your social security card on you? He wouldn’t let me leave for college unless I memorized the whole thing.”

“This is so confusing.”

“Why are you suspended from Twitter?”

“She just pretty much called me an idiot because I explained what I did to my leg to her.”

“She was like, ‘Are you 18?” I was like, ‘Yeah.’ She was like ‘Prove it.’”

“He was like I’m happy for you.”

“He was like “Who’s this Maddie girl?”

The last two quotes were a couple of my favorites, because they really helped showcase her accent. Her long ‘A’s were always much longer than they are for anyone else that I know on campus. ‘Happy’ became “Heeyappy,” while “Maddie” became “Meyaaddy.” I also really enjoyed this one, although I’m not really sure what they were trying to spell:

“Okay, here’s how you spell it: K-E-I-S-G-S”

Unfortunately, the air vent kept me from following the thread of any real conversation.

Throughout my eavesdropping spell, another voice, a quiet, female one, heavy on the sibilance, barely registered in my ears, a bit of hissing with periodic emphasis: “ssss SSsss sss SSSSsss.”

To my left, I could discern the gentle, rhythmic tap of fingers on a keyboard with brief, barely audible pauses for the typist to think of what to say, like a contemplative mouse chewing its food. (I read this post earlier today, and it has me thinking in bad metaphor.)

Across the room, a man let out sporadic croupy coughs, ones that sounded like day four of a cold. Every now and then, the same guy would clear his throat in a way that sounded like desert ground cracking.

Every now and then, a ear-piercing squeak would issue across the room, followed by the shuffle of tennis shoes on close-cut, industrial carpet, as a student would push their desktop up on its hinge and walk to talk to another student, or leave the room to use the bathroom.

As study hall wears on, the rushing air vent still obstructs most of the hushed conversation, but after we’ve been in the room for about 55 minutes, the mood and sounds change. Papers shuffle and crinkle as students return them to their folders. I hear the girl next to me sit up a little straighter, ready to be dismissed. Computers close with a soft thud. Tension builds as the students wait to be released.