I’m Watching You

Published October 1, 2007

By Jessica Beder

Everybody loves to people watch. There is some innate human fascination with studying and judging others as they pass. People are intriguing! I found a vantage point in the Church Street Starbucks, located in the apex of downtown activity.

From the casually barefoot hippies shuffling past en-route to the smoke shops to the rotund, cheerfully bustling older ladies sporting fanny packs bulging with hand lotion and tissues, there is never a dull moment. In the midst of my street-gazing stupor, I put together a little impromptu experiment. I decided to shamelessly stare at individuals near my spot for the sake of forming a better understanding of those around me and, admittedly, to confuse unsuspecting strangers.

Victim number one was the hot dog vendor; a noteworthy character, patiently biding her time until the next hungry passerby should be struck with a hot dog craving. As I stared on, she sat there, her pale flesh baking in the afternoon heat, sweaty hair sticking out of her baseball cap in all directions. Totally consumed by the tragic monotony of her mercantile fate, she sunk into oblivion, insensitive to all activity and unable to detect my silent outreach.

In search of new targets, I quickly learned that staring at young men was equivalent to saying “Hey, I think you are very good looking. Please, come hit on me.” After meeting my gaze, one of these young men hit me with a great one-liner, “Oh, just admiring God’s work I see.” Oh boys, when will you learn.

Finding this awkward, I set my sights on females my own age and found two very distinctly different reactions: the first group would return my gaze comfortably, give a smile, and then go back to their business. The other half of my female subjects would avoid eye contact at first, then glance back briefly with a disdainfully judgmental scowl and make a big show of tossing their hair while strutting away. It was an interesting contrast which I can only attribute to an insecure, self-important arrogance; just another peg on the eclectic grid of Church Street frequenters.

When I tried my experiment on older men, I found in most cases that my staring at them became a competition. It was as if they were saying “You want to stare at me? I’m good at that too. Now who feels awkward?” In this situation, I found, more often than not, I was quickly intimidated into studying my coffee cup by the steely gaze that penetrated my comfortable facade. Apparently well-seasoned in the wiles of my gender, these veterans were prepared to counter anything I had to offer.

The last, and most engaging, participants in my experiment were children. I stared at a number of young kids and they always greeted me with a big goofy grin, a wave, or some other gesture of friendship. One little girl even walked up to me and offered me a cookie.

Given these results, I think it’s pretty clear who should be running the country. Cheerfully tripping down the street, chasing pigeons, and zig-zagging between hustling shoppers, children are the heart of community life, perpetuating a sense of frivolity and lightheartedness.

As the people continued to shuffle past, the progression of activity that played out before me in this cozy sanctuary really captured the character of Burlington. There is no better place to sit back and experience humanity.

And still, the hot dog woman waits.

Print This Article

Comments