rear window
This is one of the scenarios I intended to draw when I attempted to create a drawing every month. Oh well!
I work on the second floor of an old building on a quiet street off the small historic/quaint/kitschy/touristy downtown section of my town. The acoustics are such that I can hear spoken conversations carried on the street very well.
Recently I got caught up in an impassioned, one-sided exchange. I stole a peek out the window and saw a skinny, intense, age 60-ish lady, sitting knock-kneed on the curb across the street, on her cell phone. She wore aviator shades and a white baseball cap, with the prerequisite straggly pony tail pulled through the back. An elderly Dachshund waited patiently on the end of its leash, sniffing slightly and staring hard into the middle distance.
Back at my desk, I kept being distracted by the drama below. I finally started transcribing snippets of her end of the conversation.
- No, it’s terrible.
- You only put yourself first, Joe.
- Yeah yeah yeah yeah. Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah YEAH!
- I’m anxious.
- I’m upset.
- I’m angry.
- Yeah yeah yeah yeah.
- I. Want. You. Out.
- It’s always about you, Joe.
- Don’t call me again.
Yes! I have often thought about transcribing the street conversations I hear that take place under my window. Though it sounds more like they are in my living room. You hear some really crazy stuff in the middle of the night. If it didn’t require waking all the way up, turning on the light and finding something to write on I am sure I would do it!