Dream Come True

Back from hiatus, and today we will take a little hiatus from the economic lessons and all that and wander off on a short cultural excursion, a little social experiment. Have fun!

So, back in the day, something like 10 years ago, this guy Adam Bartkoski and I talked about washing windows for a living in the Mt. Washington Valley. We both worked for Summit Achievement at the time. Actually, that could be a lie. It's possible that by then Marge had decided she was coming east from Arizona and wanted my job so Chris hatched some lame plan, because they were "friends," to get rid of me, despite that I'd had excellent reviews throughout my short career there. It all worked out in the end because I walked away with more money than they'd expectedt o give, and who wants to work for that kind of person? And I got to move to Burlington and meet many way cool peeps and then decide the northeast was too small and crowded with perfumed ladies on the hiking trails and it was time to go to Laramie.

Anyway, I understand that Adam is now happily ensconced in his life in no other place than Burlington! But, at the time, when we were talking about washing windows to make a living, I thought, cool. I mean, I always have been distracted by window washers. It's an art form, really, to go up high and use this long tool to get the dirt out and make these windows squeaky clean, almost as though they don't exist. It is like dance, the movements.

And so, this summer I have had a dream come true; Gun Man asked if I would be interested in washing the windows at his gun shop on the corner right in historic downtown Laramie. And these windows are big. And I need money. I said yes, of course.

Today was my third day on the job, second washing the pigeon poop and dust off the outsides. And it's interesting to me to be in a position, right on the corner right dowtown where I can observe all manner of foot, car and bicycle traffic- and where all those people can watch me in action.

Kids love window washers, and I understand! I was one of those once! They are fascinated, especially boys and girls alike who are probably 3, 4, 5, maybe 6. The adults with them have to constantly prompt them verbally, and then push them along with impatient- but soft- hands in order to leave the scene of fascination. How many kids could be window washers and love this, if their parents didn't push them later on with "be a doctor," "work for The Man," or whatever it is parents say to their kids any more, if anything.

Adults... they handle the window washing spectacle differently, and I am certain I garner more attention than a male window washer, or a pair or more of window washers, would. Men are enthralled. Whether it is the fact that they are watching a woman do the job, or whether I am still at least mildly attractive to males even after having gained a little weight lately, I don't know. I won't ask.

Women, on the other hand, for the most part look at me with disdain, especially if I am taking up half the sidewalk and they are afraid I will clumsily hit them with a squuegee on a long stick, or drops of dirty water, or something. Well, I thought of this, and most of the women I see downtown in the midmorning tend to be those on vacation, dressed pretty well; or running businesses, inside businesses, in town; or who are walking with their passel of kids because they have time to do so since their men are out making the living for the family.

Don't get me wrong. This is not a diatribe against women. Those of you who know me well simply know that because we women are underestimated, I believe it is important that we be the best we can at whatever it is we do- including singing. (This gets me in trouble with men who like women who sing with breathy voices that are barely there, ridiculous, inane lyrics.)

Anyway, on to the oldsters. Older people, male or female, generally traveling in vacationing pairs when I am washing the windows, would prefer that:
1) A woman not be washing windows, especially in shorts and a tank top, and

2) No one be washing those windows because the act distracts them from strolling along in a straight line down the sidewalk.

How do I know this? The face tells all. But, hey, I will be one someday, and I am already crotchety enough, it's not hard to imagine my own future being all sour about something that doesn't fit my idea of 1) a lady and 2) a sunny stroll through historic downtown.

Whatever. I am going to work in a garden now, free from the observations of passersby, but don't let that fool you. Window washing really is a dream come true!