As a young boy I have vivid memories of going to the mall with Mom and Dad. Mom would weave in and out of stores for hours. But after poking through the sporting goods place for a few minutes, Dad and I would park ourselves on a centrally located bench or sofa and prepare to engage in his favorite pastime…..people watching.
We would wile away the time observing the various types, shapes and sizes of the hundreds of human beings who would walk by. Dad would play a little game, trying to guess various things about some random person, just based on appearances. How old are they? (“all that make-up must mean she’s at least 50”.) What is their ethnicity? (“His blonde hair looks natural. He must be Swedish”.) What is their income level? (“Check out that necklace. She must be loaded!”)
In just seconds the person would pass on by into oblivion and a new subject would arrive and a new set of evaluations would begin. You could call it the ultimate form of profiling. Making judgements based purely on appearances. But since our thoughts were completely personal, and we never actually had any interaction with any of these people, we deemed it harmless and had a great deal of fun with it. It was some of the best bonding time I remember with my Dad.
He’s been gone since 1990, but I carry on the tradition. I love to relax in public places and watch folks go by. The beach is my favorite. Oh, the things you can imagine you know about someone just by observing them in a bathing suit! She must work out. He drinks too much beer. Oh dear, is she pregnant and smoking? He doesn’t have control of his kids. They must be newlyweds. They’ve been married too long! She is dressed, or not dressed, to attract attention (wait, stop looking at her).
That has to be a toupee. She is red as a beet. Gonna be a long night for her.
It’s especially fun to observe the mating dance….how the trio of young guys plot to draw the attention of the girls three umbrellas over. The strategy of choice is usually the old play catch with the football routine. Oh…did that throw just accidentally get past me and land in front of your beach chair? So sorry. Hey, My name is Justin. Didn’t I see you at Red Lobster last night?
I always find myself rooting for the guys to get shut down. Not sure why.
Then there’s the walk of the middle-aged avenger. This is the fifty-something guy who is divorced and has spent countless hours in the gym bulking up, using steroids, hitting the tanning bed, and somehow crafting his body to look like Schwarzenegger, circa 1975. He wears huge sunglasses to hide the tell-tale wrinkles around the eyes. He walks slowly along the shoreline, staring straight ahead. He’s worked hard for this moment and he wants everyone to appreciate it. I scan the women around me to see if they are taking notice. Most are buried in their phones or a good book or sound asleep. All that effort, I think, wasted. He would have been better off watching football and eating cheeseburgers like me.
I suspect I am not alone in this pursuit. I’m willing to bet you’ve done a little people watching in your time. Admit it. It’s so much fun, even if you feel a little guilty about some of your conclusions. It’s pretty harmless…. unless you do something stupid….like posting them on a blog.
