Street Tweets
On most nice weekdays in 2019, I spent my lunch half-hour on a metal bench facing Pikes Peak Avenue. While that introduction might not carry the same literary impact and dramatic promise as “I had a farm in Africa...”, I can assure you, the characters and events I witnessed were every bit as wild and untamed as those in the Isak Dinesen novel.
For starters, Colorado Springs has a significant homeless population. One of their favorite gathering places is the Penrose Library, just a block away from my bench. Destitute individuals congregate at the library every morning seeking shelter, comfortable chairs, and a place to nap while they wait for the soup kitchen (two blocks away) to open.
My bench was also just a half block from Tejon Street, the main downtown thoroughfare. It’s lined with offices, stores, and restaurants. Beyond Tejon, down a few more blocks, is Palmer High School - which boasts an “open” campus. So throughout spring, summer, and fall, that part of town is brimming with both vehicular and foot traffic. At least, before Coronavirus season arrived.
Imagine volatile vagrants and derelicts, eager-faced out-of-town and out-of-state visitors, suited business execs, and surly teenagers framed by a fleet of delivery trucks (USPS, UPS, FedEx, Budweiser...) converging into a crazy, colorful, noisy, always-in-motion, widely diverse tapestry of humanity. That was my view at noon.
Sitting on my bench, munching a sandwich, trying to read Kingsolver, Styron, or maybe Hassler, I usually didn’t get through many pages. There was always an exchange of horns, one driver waving a middle finger at another, trucks backing up, herds of students slinking past, high-heels clicking by, men and women in shorts pushing dollies laden with boxes, and a menagerie of mentally deranged individuals shouting curses at imaginary enemies.
In other words: it was quite entertaining!
Not long after I began this habit - something originally motivated simply by a desire to escape my cubicle and soak in some desperately needed vitamin-D-infused sunshine - I began to notice something interesting. If, instead of only paying attention to the loudest, most annoying activities taking place around me, I listened more carefully, I was actually privy to some rather bizarre, private conversations.
Perhaps all private conversations are bizarre if taken out of context. But the comments I heard were at turns humorous, fascinating, disturbing, and just plain weird. I was soon taking notes, entering these bits and pieces of dialogue into my phone. I wasn’t at all sure what I would do with the growing list of quips, remarks, and commentaries, but I had a feeling they would come in handy for something - a short story, flash fiction, a collection of poems... a blog.
Fast forward a year. Instead of occupying a downtown bench at lunch, I’m eating at home, on the back porch, surrounded by three dogs who are watching my every move, slobbering generously as they wait to see if I will share my sandwich with them. (Nope.)
But yesterday, while they jealously drooled and I happily chewed, I rediscovered the list on my phone. As I read the one-liners I had recorded, I not only laughed, I also realized I had succeeded in taking a series of verbal photographs - audio snapshots of strangers I had never met and will never meet. They walked past my bench, momentarily grazing my life, leaving in their wake a montage of statements to ponder. I think of these random snippes as street tweets.
Below, you’ll find a portion of my collection, without alteration, embellishment or editing (except punctuation), in the order in which I put them into my phone. Each was snatched from a separate, passing conversation.
“Kicking back in my own pad... I used hairspray once.”
“Remember that drink you bought? It was disgusting!”
“Look both ways, idiot!”
“He says all the right things.”
“Yeah… it happens a lot... basic life.”
“Wolverine!”
“I don’t think you have to be a lesbian to support them.”
“Good news: she has our voucher!”
“This is a good day for a solar watch.”
“This isn’t how you live life.”
“Terrified! Horrified of things that go bump in the night!”
“I’m a very social person. I don’t need that jealous sh*t in my life.”
“That gave him a leg up - he was so respected.”
“My password never expires.”
“Personally, I think he devoured that salad.”
“So is she still struggling to replace you?”
“It takes longer than 15 minutes to get cows down Tejon.”
“Hey, can I get some unsolicited advice?”
“What more could I possibly want? I have enough money for the next two weeks.”
“I don’t care! I’m sadder than bleep.”
“They have monitors the size of walls.”
“That guy was so struggling with the door - trying to carry out umbrellas.”
“Backpack... backpack... Yeah!”
“Start acting correctly. You’re killing me.”
“We can’t see a double shadow right now.”
“Certain things you take into a hotel. Certain things you better not.”
“Right from the center, I might be able to push it.”
“This is so bold! OMG!”
“My teacher says that’s a cop-out. I was like, ‘No, it’s not!’”
“I’ll have it when we go to Florida for Christmas.”
“So you did make it out of the wedding...?”
“Hey, can I get some unsolicited advice?”
“They’ve got spicy. Do you like spicy? I like spicy but it doesn’t like me.”
“Come on! We still gotta go places!”
“Whatever happens, happens...”
Who were these people? What were they really talking about? Where were they from? Where were they going? It’s fun to consider how those conversations might have developed to that point and also, how they proceeded afterwards. Reading them together reminds me of playing Mad Lips.
God purposefully created an eclectic breed of beings, each with unique talents, quirks, and passions. He’s the Artist and we’re His body of work.
Taken as a whole, the things I overheard on Pikes Peak Avenue caused me to realize once again how grand and amazing humankind is. We are a spectacularly diverse collection of personalities, lifestyles, opinions and attitudes. Wouldn’t it be great if instead of fighting about these differences, we acknowledged them and viewed them like an artist views his palette: with respect and appreciation for the value they add to the overall painting?
Conversely, think how boring the world would be if we were all exactly alike, acted the same, said the same things, always agreed with each other... Dull as toast.
My personal belief is that God purposefully created an eclectic breed of beings, each with unique talents, quirks, and passions. He’s the Artist and we’re His body of work. Of course, each of us is a work in progress.