The Faux Shaux

Observing Strangers

Whole Foods, Union Square

Jan 26, 2009

Choice of Location:

The food court on the upper level of Whole Foods is great people watching territory.  There is always a variety of foreign and local, students and professionals, the boisterous and the introverted, and all usually agreeable.  I seldom run into people, so my studies are uninterrupted.  If I stood on the sidewalk, I’m sure it would be quite the opposite.  The eating area is far less chaotic than the waiting line suggests, five abreast, coiling around through the aisles.  It’s a great rendezvous, as there’s usually seating, and no moderation of outside food.  The full-length, windowed view of the park draws those eating alone, and serves as a contemplative branch on which to perch.

Subject 1 – Green Hat

Female, early thirties.

She’s wearing a fashionable, somewhat odd green plaid hat, with an oversized button affixed, right of the crown.  It has a proper name, and that she knows that proper name.  She probably takes pride in educating people on it’s name, history, including the actress that first brought it in vogue.  She reads an oversized magazine, about the size of the New York Times Magazine.  She flicks the nails of her thumb and forefinger, seemingly disagreeing with the author’s stance on, whatever it may be, Rourke’s performance in his latest and whether his success is ironic or not.

She eats her bowl of salad and edamame rather quickly, although if she were in a rush, she wouldn’t be reading in the first place. This suggests and underlying compulsive nature. She is conscious of her eating habits.  Her slender, pink fingers operate the plastic fork with great precision, while her eyes dart from margin to margin.  The fingers, articulate in nature tell me she can sew and that her handwriting is somewhat delicate and restrained (i.e. -not bubbly).

Her dark brown eyebrows give her dye job away, although she seems the type to update her look constantly, as her clothing looks brand new.  This includes the knee-high, red leather boots.  Shoes are like cars in the way they describe the owner.  Red wants attention.  Knee high leather adds dominance.  The combination make for an ego-centric personality, although the matte finish and short heal dilutes the intensity.

I cannot tell if she’s local or not.  Her eyes and bone structure say Eastern European, but her nose, lips and chin are more Irish or English.  Her style is more San Francisco than NYC, if she isn’t a tourist, I’d say she’s only been in town a few months, since her shoes are unscathed and her taste hasn’t augmented.  She heads toward the exit, I realize her slenderness is such that her thighs don’t rub together when she walks.  I wonder if this makes her stealthier.

Subject 2 – Blue Cap

Male, mid-sixties.

He wears a blue baseball cap with a logo I can’t decipher.  He’s seems to be waiting for someone, though he’s two thirds finished with his food.  He is also people watching.  We meet eyes.  His are pale, blue.  They are dull spoons.  Something about their gaze said that he was unimpressed with life, or at least his day.  Unabashedly, he picks his teeth with his thick fingers.  He looks back at me as he fishes through his molars so nonchalantly.  His lack of shame suggests that he’s not married.  I look down to answer my own question.  Nope.  No wedding band.  His fingers are wide, rather square at the tips.  Probably worked with his hands.  They have the look of used sandpaper.  He shakes his right leg when he’s deep in thought.  It pauses when he’s purveying the scene.

His phone rings.  It takes about three rings before he notices.  Another two before he answers.  The ring is set on the default Nokia ring.  I’m sure he doesn’t know how to change it.  I wonder if he can check his voicemail.  I wonder if he still has an answering machine that records to tape.

Subject 3 & 4

Two Females, twenties.

I wasn’t paying much attention to them, as they’re sitting behind me and to my right.  I only glanced over, as I settled at my two-person table.  The dirty blonde faced my direction and wore a loose-fit orange Patagonia-like pullover.  The brunette was in fitted clothing, showing off her tone physique.  I instantly wrote them off as outdoorsy types, by the pullover.  As they went to empty their trays, noticed the spoken Russian.  I guess there was a noticeable shift in my attention because the blonde caught my nosing in immediately.  As they walked back to grab their jackets their personalities diverged.  The blonde was cautious and protective, almost analyzing my intentions.  The brunette, who was used to attention, displayed a cocky-stride that was only interrupted in my turning down to my notes.

Subject 5

Female, late thirties – early forties.

Another lady sits down at the table beside mine.  With her, she has a small container of soup, I think it’s the corn chowder.  She drinks her Nantucket Nectar with a straw.  Each time she takes a sip, she has to retrieve the straw from inside the bottle.  Seems cumbersome to me.  If she’s a germaphobe, it’s rather contradictory that she’s using her dirty finger fetch the mouthpiece.  She is also unwed.  She’s somewhat tomboyish.  The way she rocks her head back and forth as an affirmation.  She probably has older brothers or a dominant father.  Her hair is styled in the “bob,” but it’s not flattering her face.  Neither are her frameless glasses on her long nose.  She’s giving off the science teacher vibe.  Very schoolboy-ish in all of her gestures.  She loads two pieces of pink Orbits and she demonstrates the phrase “chewing like a cow” flawlessly.  Her bottom jaw skews to the right as it opens, allowing percussive sounds to escape.

She reads from pamphlet in tiny, 6pt font, and horizontal orientation.  Either she’s far-sighted and this is her answer, or it’s her environmentally conscious rationale at work here.

Subject 6

Female, late twenties.

My eyes are drawn to her because she operates at a completely different rhythm than that of the rest in the room.  There is patience in her poise.  She slowly climbs the staircase in her ¾ length jacket, its hood serving as a faux-fur-lining to her aura.  Her disposition breathes tranquility, while she examines the room, as a new world presenting itself.  It’s as if she’s taking in the room as a whole.  Not separating its constituents, but surmising one single vision.  As she glides over to the café, her short brown locks curl toward the heavens, more buoyant with each step.  She reviews the barista’s chalkboard.  Unconvinced of the selection, she swims past the biscotti case.  She came to see the room, the café to fill the lack of purpose.

Subject 7 & 8

Female & Male, teenagers.

The girl is rather pudgy and has terrible posture.  She has the look of a girl who grew up in a house of music.  Total Aretha resemblance.  You can also tell by the way she holds herself that she lacks discipline.  Most likely this is due to very passive parental figures.  Her frumpy clothing suggests a lack of self-esteem that’s common for the age.  The style of her backpack also corroborates her being in high school.

The boy plays with his scarf in a funny way.  If sexual orientation were poker, it would be one of his tells.  He has very good posture, like that of a dancer.  Although he isn’t as physically developed as the ballet kids, but maybe he’s less ambitious.  There’s obedience in the posture that seems learned.

Subject 9

Female, eighteen to twenty

Her appeal is in her smiles.  She travels with admirers.  Her eyes bounce around the room as she speaks to her two friends, who sit, backs toward me.  This could denote a short attention span, but I’m inclined to say she’s somewhat bored with the conversation, or her content is being retold.

(Hmm, I look around while conversing.  I don’t know if I’m aurally centered or if I have to feel especially engaged).

Subjects 10-12

Male, Female, thirties.

Male, late fifties.

The two in their thirties seem like a performing duo.  Almost as if they just walked out of the park.  The woman looks like a Nubian gypsy.  She rocks a sparkling ‘do-rag, while the man has a large, traffic-cone-orange beanie.  He may have dreads inside the beanie, but I cannot tell.  He seems like the business mind and she, the act, the large personality.

They converse with an older, man with a lax posture.  He has short, grey curls atop his head, inspiration on his brow and a lofty laugh that one can hear well across the mess hall.  He is reminiscent of a George Lucas, a definite math and sciences mind.  You can tell he’s a regular since he’s on a friendly basis with the staff that hovers around.  Or maybe he’s that friendly.

The gypsy is either a tranny or has a hormone imbalance.  The build is too muscular and broad.  I’m leaning toward the cross-gender area, since there is a level of intentional privacy kept.  She holds her coat closed the entire time, and her head is down when her sunglasses are off.