made me think back to the bad ol’
days. (There weren’t many good ol’ days for most people,
fashion-wise, in the eighties.)
Under the silvery, tacky/shiny jacket was a red
T-shirt with some sort of writing on it. Just a regular-looking red
T-shirt. A little bit wrinkly, in fact. And the writing on the
shirt was worn, as if perhaps it was a favorite shirt worn and
washed so often that it showed its age and then some.
He was carrying a paper bag sideways under one arm
and something that could have been a large car part under the
other. I don’t know why. He didn’t look like he was walking to his
car. He was out near the road, just walking. Who buys car parts
(large ones, at that) for cars they don’t have, or, at least, don’t
have with them?
To top off the look (or lack of it), he wore a red
baseball cap on his head—backwards. Now, I’m sorry, but no one over
twelve should wear a baseball hat backwards anymore, and certainly
no one who’s not into hip-hop. This guy was instantly disqualified
on both counts.
And yet there sat the ball cap on his head—backwards.
Defiantly backwards. And yet he didn’t even know he was defying
anything. I could tell. He just put the hat on that way.
While sitting at the light staring at this guy, I
fleetingly thought perhaps he had a story. I’m a writer; I should
be able to figure out this guy’s story, or make one up.
Just as I was contemplating the possibility of his
alter ego being L.L. Cool Walter or something, the Alpha Romeo
Spider behind me beeped. The light had turned green. I hate when
that happens.
I’ve been home from work for two hours and I still
haven’t figured this guy out. Do I lack imagination, or does this
man defy description because he fits into absolutely no category?
He’s probably just as boring as he looks. But I hope not.
In closing, in my own defense as an avowed
people-watcher, let me offer a chart of differences between a
people-watcher and a stalker, in case you find yourself in a
people-watching situation:
People-watching
It’s an innocent activity.
Stalking
Not so much, really . . .
People-watching
You’re curious about all people equally.
Stalking
You’re focused on one person, often someone smarter
and better-looking than you.
People-watching
You stay in one place, happy to watch people
pass.
Stalking
You follow one person around, hiding in bushes.
People-watching
You take cute, humorous notes in a little black
notebook so you don’t forget wacky things you see.
Stalking
You take copious notes in tiny, tight handwriting,
collecting it in 27 scrapbooks you keep under a floorboard in your
closet.
People-watching
You chuckle cheerily at the funny things people
around you are doing.
Stalking
You drool over what you’re seeing in someone’s
bedroom window with those night-vision goggles.
People-watching
You search through the trash bin in the park after
you see a child accidentally drop in a favorite toy while throwing
away her candy wrapper.
Stalking
You root through the garbage at someone’s house,
looking for old gas station receipts, coffee grounds, and bits of
rancid food the person might have touched so you can frame it and
hang it on a secret wall in your basement.
People-watching
No one who’s watching you watching others will call
the police on you.
Stalking
Two words:
restraining order
More Random Things I Notice
List #2: Important Stuff to Remember:
• Never try to jury-rig a
WiFi connection with a wire coat hanger and chewing gum connected
to your laptop with a twist-tie from an old bread bag, no matter
what my husband tells you. It won’t work. He was just filching off
the neighbor’s unsecure network and didn’t know it. (This is not to
be confused with an “insecure network,” which is just a fancy,
high-tech-sounding name for my group of women friends when we get
together for
days. (There weren’t many good ol’ days for most people,
fashion-wise, in the eighties.)
Under the silvery, tacky/shiny jacket was a red
T-shirt with some sort of writing on it. Just a regular-looking red
T-shirt. A little bit wrinkly, in fact. And the writing on the
shirt was worn, as if perhaps it was a favorite shirt worn and
washed so often that it showed its age and then some.
He was carrying a paper bag sideways under one arm
and something that could have been a large car part under the
other. I don’t know why. He didn’t look like he was walking to his
car. He was out near the road, just walking. Who buys car parts
(large ones, at that) for cars they don’t have, or, at least, don’t
have with them?
To top off the look (or lack of it), he wore a red
baseball cap on his head—backwards. Now, I’m sorry, but no one over
twelve should wear a baseball hat backwards anymore, and certainly
no one who’s not into hip-hop. This guy was instantly disqualified
on both counts.
And yet there sat the ball cap on his head—backwards.
Defiantly backwards. And yet he didn’t even know he was defying
anything. I could tell. He just put the hat on that way.
While sitting at the light staring at this guy, I
fleetingly thought perhaps he had a story. I’m a writer; I should
be able to figure out this guy’s story, or make one up.
Just as I was contemplating the possibility of his
alter ego being L.L. Cool Walter or something, the Alpha Romeo
Spider behind me beeped. The light had turned green. I hate when
that happens.
I’ve been home from work for two hours and I still
haven’t figured this guy out. Do I lack imagination, or does this
man defy description because he fits into absolutely no category?
He’s probably just as boring as he looks. But I hope not.
In closing, in my own defense as an avowed
people-watcher, let me offer a chart of differences between a
people-watcher and a stalker, in case you find yourself in a
people-watching situation:
People-watching
It’s an innocent activity.
Stalking
Not so much, really . . .
People-watching
You’re curious about all people equally.
Stalking
You’re focused on one person, often someone smarter
and better-looking than you.
People-watching
You stay in one place, happy to watch people
pass.
Stalking
You follow one person around, hiding in bushes.
People-watching
You take cute, humorous notes in a little black
notebook so you don’t forget wacky things you see.
Stalking
You take copious notes in tiny, tight handwriting,
collecting it in 27 scrapbooks you keep under a floorboard in your
closet.
People-watching
You chuckle cheerily at the funny things people
around you are doing.
Stalking
You drool over what you’re seeing in someone’s
bedroom window with those night-vision goggles.
People-watching
You search through the trash bin in the park after
you see a child accidentally drop in a favorite toy while throwing
away her candy wrapper.
Stalking
You root through the garbage at someone’s house,
looking for old gas station receipts, coffee grounds, and bits of
rancid food the person might have touched so you can frame it and
hang it on a secret wall in your basement.
People-watching
No one who’s watching you watching others will call
the police on you.
Stalking
Two words:
restraining order
More Random Things I Notice
List #2: Important Stuff to Remember:
• Never try to jury-rig a
WiFi connection with a wire coat hanger and chewing gum connected
to your laptop with a twist-tie from an old bread bag, no matter
what my husband tells you. It won’t work. He was just filching off
the neighbor’s unsecure network and didn’t know it. (This is not to
be confused with an “insecure network,” which is just a fancy,
high-tech-sounding name for my group of women friends when we get
together for
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