Overheard by my mother, on the crosstown bus:

Woman, speaking loudly into her cellphone: "What time is happy hour?" Pause. "And what do you look like?"

OK, so maybe my pro-cellphone-on-public-transportation stance should change. Yet maybe it shouldn't. I love overhearing things like this while on the bus. I mean, sometimes I remember to have a really captivating book, but other times--and especially now, since running in the rain and thus ruining my discman--other people's chatter is all I've got in the way of entertainment.