If I had to confess which so-called ‘guilty pleasures’ are on my list, then at the top spot is definitely ‘Temptation Island’. Next up somewhere in the list: secretly eavesdropping. Especially when you're staring at a blinking cursor on your screen in a crowded coffee shop, pretending to listen to music with iPhone earbuds in. Just like at this exact moment. The Brooklyn coffee shop also serves lunch, and a few ‘laptoppers’ have given up their two-person tables. I stubbornly stay seated. The blinking cursor makes me stay a little longer. My neighbor on the right makes room.

A few minutes later, the table is filled again. Two young men sit down. Dressed entirely in casual Friday attire (read: shorts, shirt, and baseball cap), they are waiting for their lunch that they ordered earlier at the bar. I can't help but eavesdrop like a creep. These two men intrigue me. Not because they are incredibly handsome, but because they are such loudmouths that you can't really ignore them. One is talking about his business, the other about his vacation. But in both cases, it's about ‘PJ's’ (private jets), yachts, ‘millions and millions and millions of models’ and various friends mentioned by their nicknames. It becomes such a convoluted story that I can't keep up anymore. Until the vacation guy tells the business guy that his girlfriend broke up with him this morning. Automatically, my ears perk up again, and I feel like a shivering sneaky snake. I'm surprised because it seems to me that you would mention this first when you meet your ‘buddy’ for a sandwich on a Friday afternoon and not bring something like this up after talking about vacations and ‘millions and millions and millions of models’ for over 40 minutes. Right? But I'm even more surprised by the fact that he has suddenly transformed from the loud vacation guy into a nearly weeping little boy. He even downloaded an app on how to deal with heartbreak. My heart breaks. I shouldn't have judged him like that. Actually, this man is one with a very small heart. But just before I really start to feel sorry for him, his true nature comes back to the surface. Because as quickly as he flipped to the weeping dumped man, he quickly flips to his phone to some text message. It's from ‘this blonde one’ he met on vacation, with whom he also did all sorts of things (I won't repeat all the details that the vacation guy shamelessly threw out, but believe me: it's intense) and who is now coming to New York. The text says ‘ticket booked, babe’. I roll my eyes, let out a sigh, and a half-hearted ‘jesus’ escapes my lips.

Almost out loud, I think that this man is really a schizophrenic, a cheater, and he deserves no sympathy at all. But while I'm thinking this almost out loud, I momentarily forget that I'm not listening to an audiobook, but that this is really happening here and now. Startled and out of habit, I look to the right. And there they are. The four pairs of eyes. They are staring at me. I've been caught. I clear my throat. I close my laptop and awkwardly squeeze between our tables to the exit. I promise myself to never do this again and now feel like a real creep after being caught. The only advantage? That blinking cursor has another story to tell for Amayzine. So you see: it all falls into place again.

For now, no more eavesdropping sessions for me, and I promise myself to stick to my favorite account ‘overheard in NYC’ on Instagram. These easily fulfill my ‘guilty pleasures’ without the risk of being caught. So, see you next week!