01/27/2011

    My Observation Paper Rough Draft please let me know what you think.

As I approach the place where I want to write my paper I move through the different displays set up as mock rooms. An apartment here, a living room there, all meant to draw you in to the displayed spaces. You get bombarded with sights and sounds of everything around me. There are the bright colors of neon red of a couch, crayola green of a wall hanging, canary yellow of a child’s chair. It seems the whole rainbow is here in one jumbles mess, with moving bodies here and there though out the space, but as you move through the kaleidoscope you start to notice the separation. A couch first, then a chair, a living room over there, a bed room next to the kitchen here. All displayed for you to walk through.

   I sit down on a white cloth couch in a room of creamy walls. I look around to see people moving slowly between the rooms, laughing and smiling some arguing over what to buy while others move in quiet thought about what they are seeing. There are children walking with their parents marveling displays of brightly light spaces the different of apartments. Some bounce on the beds while their parents talk about whether or not to buy it. Others look timidly at their parents for the slightest chance to go running off in laughter. One littler girl lets out an ear piercing scream and runs to her mother just to tell her “I love you mommy”. I watch as everyone lets out a collective sigh of relief and goes back to their shopping having held their breath in fear for the child. One woman asking “was that really called for in public?”

 While I sit watching the people around me a man keeps moving about the room. I hear the squeak of his shoes on the hard wood floor. He coughs and asks to sit on the couch opposite of mine. I smile up at him and just nod. He smiles back while he sits. He smells of cigarettes and fidgets to get comfortable on the crisp minimalistic white couch. Meanwhile I watch from the corner of my eye as he tries to decide what I am doing, if I am available and whether or not I would turn him down if he asked me out. I see his puzzled look. I smile and state that I am writing a paper for school in an attempt to be nice and ease the awkward moment. He smiles and says “oh”. Now his look says that he is wondering how old I really am. He moves slowly closer to me. Just as he is about to speak my friend comes up from behind me and kisses the top of my head as he asks how my writing is going. I smile up at him and say that it’s going good. The man quickly leaves in a air of slacken disappointment.  

During which a clear plastic container appears in front of me. My friend brought me a treat from the restaurant in the building. A Princess cake one of my favorites. He leans over and hands it to me with a warm grin. I smile to myself as I open the clear plastic container with a load pop and crinkle of plastic against plastic. Suddenly my world goes quiet. I hear nothing. All I can smell if the sweet sent of vanilla and almond. I giggle as I swipe my finger across the bottom of the small delicious sponge cake with raspberry jam and green marzipan to take away some of the almost weightless frosting. My friend coughs discreetly as he tries to hide a laugh.  The sugary goodness envelope s me as I lick the frosting off my finger. So light, so good, but back to work I go.

 While I put the cake away the din of my surroundings comes flooding back me. Its made up of the mummer of people saying “sorry “or “pardon me” as the people bump into each other, the slamming of doors and drawers, the click clack or squeak of shoes on the floor make up the wonderful sounds around me. I notice the woody smell of MDF, the musk of leather from the hanging behind me. The sterile smell of cleaner underneath the earthy smell of dirt and salt is underneath everything. Again I notice the colors of the other rooms in stark contras to the clean, white and cream room I am sitting in.  

Close by a mother yells at her child to stop and come back to her. The little boy runs away further laughing and looking to make sure his mother is following him. While she briskly walks towards him with a faint red tint to her cheeks. The smile disappears from his face as he sees her displeasure. She grabs on to his arm. She spins him to face her as she kneels down to his level. In hushed, but stern tone barytes him for running away from her. He starts to pout and look to be about to cry when the mother lets out a frustrated sigh and rolls her eyes as she stands up. She quickly looks around her as people turn away from watching them. She looks down in troubled thought, chewing her bottom lip. She nods to her self and starts walking back to the front of the building. Her son struggles to keep up and almost tripping over his own feet in doing so.

As I sit here amongst the ebbing and waning of the crowed of people putting on their friendliest faces trying to be polite to each other without putting much effort into the actual act, one minute moment of politeness and then not another thought about it. It’s as if they are wearing a mask of sincerity. They go through the motions of being cordial to each other and then move on to what they were doing before the encounter even began. No backward glance. No thought of the other person after that one fleeting moment. Times slipping by as they move through the dance they themselves have created. A smile here, a laugh there, and then nothing, no thought beyond that moment of interaction. No thought of were the other person was going or how they really felt. Just a moment of politeness, a curt bow and on our way we go to our next partner in this dance.

Please let me know what you think. As a side note I will be working on a recipe for the Princess Cake that does not take 4+ hours to make & will be posting it. :D