But I Prefer the Whole Story

There is, or used to be, a website along the lines of "overheard in the office" or "overheard in the street". Because the truth is, hearing one bit of a conversation is occasionally sureal. Sufficiently sureal that sometimes it is hard to figure out what the conversation could possibly be about that would make sense of the one bit you overheard.

I used to read it, but I found that it wasn't fun when I didn't get to find out what on earth prompted someone to say that.

The worst scenario as far as I'm concerned, is when I overhear something and know that however curious I may be, it really isn't the done thing to intrude on the conversation. Which sucks, because I hate not knowing.

What promted this little post? Out for lunch with office people, at a buffet. Walking back to the table, I heard this line: "...been living in a facticious apartment". Now...giving a factitious address, ok, that makes sense. But how can you live in a facticious apartment, given that the word is defined as
1.
created, taken, or assumed for the sake of concealment; not genuine; false: fictitious names.
2.
of, pertaining to, or consisting of fiction; imaginatively produced or set forth; created by the imagination: a fictitious hero.

I suppose that if someone took an apartment in order to conceal something then the first definition works. Sort of. Still seems like an odd thing to say though.

Does this apartment not exist in the real world? Does this person have an invisible apartment as opposed to an invisible friend? I don't know. And I never will, because I didn't go and ask them. Because if I did, then they would be back at their office, talking or blogging about the crazy women at the restaurant. So I left them alone and ate my non-fictitious plate of food.