Skip to main content

Street Performers

                  Image result for pedestrians on city street
by The Urban Blabbermouth
I like people-watching. Some others watch Keeping up with the Kardashians reality TV show, but I prefer the real thing, watching the people around me.

This morning, I am loitering on a street corner, in front of Starbucks, sipping my coffee. I watch a sea of humanity stream out of the Subway across the street into the station's courtyard. So many people. The stream comes in waves lasting two minutes or so. It’s as if the train is having the heaves and is coughing up passengers.

The first thing I notice is everyone reaching for their cell phone as they emerge from underground into the sunshine. Gotta check for messages just in case it's the end of the world and someone must save it, like the teen-age girl always does in a disaster movie.

I watch a pair of blonde women holding hands as they exit the station. They look pretty and professional in their light grey suits and white blouses. I take them to be finance types, bankers maybe? They intimately kiss, much lip touching, the kind you only see with new love, then each goes off in separate directions. This is the new normal in America.

A young black woman drops her scarf as she crosses the street. An older white man calls out, “Miss!” He struggles to pick up the scarf - his beer belly paunch in the way - and hands it to her. She smiles and thanks him. We have terrible race problems in America but there is still lots of kindness too.

A Chinese woman splits from the crowd crossing the street, and approaches me. She is middle aged, slender, and short enough that I can see the top of her head and her thinning black hair. She looks up at me, hands me a business card, and says an accented, “Where?” It’s for some home health care office nearby. I guess that her English is poor, so I point towards the backside of the building, saying "two blocks," and gesture two fingers in a V. I hope she gets it. She says, “Thank you, thank you,“ and walks on toward the back of the building.

I am not the only one watching the crowd. The police are there too, a Sergeant and three officers, standing near the station's exit. They are wearing puffy bulletproof vests that make them look like barrel-chested body builders. Their riot helmets remind me of the ones skateboarders wear - round with slots on the side and probably on top too for cooling air to pass. They are armed with rifles, M16s I think, slung on their shoulders with the muzzles pointing to the ground. It’s a position from which they can instantly swing up the rifles and shoot if necessary. Another new normal in America -- police officers on city streets who look like soldiers in a war zone. This is a mirror of Israel's city streets.

Inevitably, my people-watching turns into girl watching. It’s at moments like this that I appreciate the sartorial splendor of women in short skirts and women, including the thick women, wearing spandex leggings to work.

A parade of pretty women walk by. I wonder if pretty girls are lonely. It’s the idea that beautiful women attract handsome men and unless you are handsome, don’t bother. This intimidates guys that the girls would have welcomed to approach them. You rise to your level of beauty or fall to your level of ugliness. How do I think up such strange notions?

The women are guy-watching too. It's fair. One or two look me over as I look them over. Wonder what passes through their minds, “Hmm, yummy!”

My reverie is disturbed by a couple arguing. They are yelling at each other. The lady screams, “Take a look at this pussy,” and she pulls up her tee and pulls down her sweat pants. I see lady bits that I should not see. She flashed so quickly it’s all over before I can take a picture. I am guessing the man has other female interests and the lady wanted to remind him what he would miss after she threw him out.

My cell phone chimes in the midst of this excitement. Work calls. It’s a text of my daily To Do list from the Company.


Anonymous said…
You can observe a lot just by watching - Yogi Berra

Popular posts from this blog

A Subway Journey Home

by The Urban Blabbermouth. Comments are welcome! ~ There is a ritual to theNew York City subway system. Once there, you lose your humanity.  You are transformed into a savage, brutal and selfish automaton.  Savage in that you push and shove other riders out of your way to get into the subway car.  Brutal in that you never excuse yourself for any atrocities that you commit to get in the subway car.  Selfish in that you never give up your seat to any one no matter how cripple and old and pregnant they are.  Automaton in that you never look at any one else as a human being.

Now there are certain strategies that you can employ to be a successful subway rider.  You can stand by the door and obstruct the way just to be selfish and ornery.  That strategy is designed to increase your standing with your fellow passengers by impressing them with how vicious you can be pushing back at people trying to push into the car.  Whenever I see this strategy employed, I immediately piggy back on it.  I move…

Encyclopedia Brown Bear

by The Urban Blabbermouth
At an age when other children decide to set up lemonade stands, Baby Bear decided to start a detective agency. His decision resulted from his experience in the Goldilocks home invasion. If you don't know this well-publicized crime case, Google Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Baby Bear wanted to become a policeman to help the other denizens of the Forest with their troubles and to maintain justice for all. Alas, the police did not accept children as applicants.

Baby Bear ran to his community library and borrowed the renowned guide, The Hardy Boys' Detective Handbook. Baby Bear spent the next twenty days, the library's lending period, studying the text. He chose the business name of "Encyclopedia Brown Bear Detective Agency" after his hero, Leroy "Encyclopedia” Brown. Baby Bear's dad hung the business sign across the garage door and opened a folding card table and four chairs in the entrance below.

On the first day, the Big Bad Wolf…

Im gonna git u Sukkah

by The Urban Blabbermouth [who may or may not be shown in the photo above... - v-E] ~ True story. I am walking to my car and I notice a couple of Jewish fellows, twenty somethings, with the bouquets of what looks like bamboo or palm. I know they are Jewish for they look Hasidic. They are wearing long black jackets, wide brim black fedora hats, and have curly sideburns. In truth, I classify all Jewish who dress like this as Hasidic although they may identify themselves differently. They are standing near the corner canvassing passersby.