An area of the Skywalk that attracts tons of freaky action is the corridor that runs over Superior Street and 1st Ave. W. I have yet to figure out why because that section has bright lighting and lots of foot traffic from stiff sober "suits" passing through to get their fill of coffee and office gossip. So you wouldn't expect that hallway to act as headquarters for unseemly behavior from downtown nutballs. But sure enough, about every third day I'm walking along there, something weird happens. I could write fifty stories about what goes on in that part of the Skywalk, but I'll just tell this one.
I'm strolling along on a nice summer day; headphones on, bag lunch in hand, minding my own business. I'm halfway down said crossing when I spot a young lady around fifteen years old sitting along the window ledge talking on her cell phone. She's dressed like any ordinary gothy teenager and babbling like any other idiot who has a cell phone. So I'm not expecting any problems (my first mistake). Suddenly, she snaps her fingers at me, continues the phone conversation, and sits up. I turn down my headphones and turn my eyes in her direction (mistake number two). She says to the cell phone, "Hey, hold on a second." Then she takes a step towards me with her hand out and asks, "Look man, do you have any spare change?"
I pride myself on being the "king of the comeback" and the "master of the one-liners." But for some reason that day, I had no witty comeback (my third mistake). My response sounded like, "Uhhhh....no, I guess, uhhhhh, I don't have any change right now." What happened next made me want to send anthrax to myself just to end what I endure in this town. She gives me this look where she squints her eyes, turns her head, and nods a little bit as if to say, "Whatever, you loser." Hey! Daddy didn't raise no losers. Apparently, the cell phone beggar thinks daddy did raise a loser. Then it's right back to her phone conversation, "Yeah, so anyway, blah blah blee bluu blah..."
This next story didn't happen in the Skywalk, but near it. And it didn't happen to me. Also, it may not have happened the way I'm about to tell it, but close enough, right? What's important here is that it's what I should have said to "cell phone beggar." It's what we should all say to the people who ask for spare change in the Skywalk.
A street drunk once approached my friend and asked for a quarter. My friend, in his brilliance, told the guy he'd give him three bucks if he could do three somersaults. You ever see a street drunk perform gymnastics in a dark alley for Wild Cat Ice money? Well you should...and most likely can if you put these people to work. "You want my spare change? Well, I want to see tumbling and square-dancing. Possibly a song." The best part: after the guy tried to do the summersaults, my friend never gave him the money. I love happy endings.
