Big City, Small Girl

Polkas were always a good choice. Better than a sad song atleast, those irritated the fudge out of folks here. Picking up my accordion, I started a tune. It was an easy one I could just play for a long while. It was nice to think when my hands could just go in autopilot. I don't think much though, I think. Wait.

I mostly look. I notice things about people. It's really easy to look at people when you could do something else to distract them, like polka playing.

...That sounds...really weird, but if you'd just hear me out, you'd understand.

You see, big city folks don't know of anything bigger than themselves. Us humans weren't meant to live in between concrete and brick walls all alone with nothing but a cat or dog to comfort us after another long day at the office.
Not only is what they do incredibly boring, but stressful too. Half this city is only a paycheck away from living on the street. Add whatever social issues they have, it's no wonder so many find themselves lost in their own world, with no care for the others.

Honestly, staring here wouldn't have an effect on a single person. Hundreds could walk by someone bleeding out in an alleyway without so much as a glance before someone would bother thinking of calling for an ambulance.
It's not like it's hurting them since I'll probably never see them again anyways.

No one here looks at each other. No one here knows my face. The only memory they have of my existence is the earworm my accordion manifests into their life weeks after they walk by this street.

I stare because I like stories. I like looking at people and judging them on how they look and dress and imagine their life. I like making up a stranger's complete history just from the way they type on their phone. By the way they strut in whatever big brand heels they got for their seventeenth birthday. By the way they cover their bald spot with whatever's left of their greying hair.

It's like looking at a picture book; I have the illustrations, whoever's in front of me, and I get make up the words.
That man's prepping himself up from an intense meeting the way he's sweating up a storm in his suit. That gal over there walks like she's got years ahead of her, on to meet some amigas for a dinner maybe.

The one thing they all have in common however, is that they are all stars in their own stories. It sounds a little, well, cheesy but it's true. Each and everyone in these crowds is playing a role, and I get to watch a part of it. Kind of like a scene.
It's sort of weird to think about. So I don't.

I switch up the tune I'm playing to a slower one, to let my mind wander a little easier.

I continue my scouting. Usually, one person sticks out to me every day and I make up a much longer story about them throughout the entire day, but lately it feels like something- someone is going to be important.

Every now and then I get this feeling like there's a little cricket in the back of my mind telling me something's going to happen. That something's going to go wrong, or I that I need to watch my step, or that my fly was open.
Some people call it a gut feeling. I call it my 'Cheesy Sense'.

From the way things are going so far, it doesn't seem like anything's going to happen anytime soon. My job's more stable than ever, probably because no one's ever applying, and I'm getting rent in on time.

I play near tourist filled spots like these for the extra cash, and to just waste time too, around once a week. It pays almost as well as my job at the Roe's Roller Rink, unsurprisingly. You get the few cents and coins from locals with free change, and a few bucks from all the small town folks seeing a city bigger than themselves for the first time.

It's nice to think about. Seeing a whole new world for the first time after spending your life in one spot. I sometimes wonder how that would have felt like.

The longest I ever spent in one spot couldn't have been more than three years. I used to move foster homes every few months as a kid, and now that I'm out of the system, the habit kinda stuck. Wasn't the best way to live, but it's comforting. Whatever's going on for you right now won't be for long. Too long in one place and I get jittery. I need something new.

I'm thinking of starting a new song when I glance at something- someone from the corner of my eye me. That bright pink haired girl was almost impossible to miss. It's like a cheerleader lost her pompom and dropped it on her head. Strangely enough, it doesn't seem like she's moving. Maybe she's waiting for someone. A relative or an old friend she once knew.

Or she could just be lost.

She's sure got a staring problem alright, I can see right my own reflexion through those big blue...

Woah.

She's mesmerizing. I mean, just...I've seen tons girls before. Heck, I've been to every country on the continent. Well, there's only three but you get the point!
Yet this one is just...it's like I need to talk to her. She's a different kind of pretty.
Like a weird pretty.

And just weird too. Who's got the time to stop to listen to your weekly cacophony?

Someone who clearly appreciates taking their time and doesn't rush around. She kinda looks like she wants to talk to me. I can't read the look on her face. Is she mad? Why is she staring at me like that?

Slow down with the assumptions there, Me, she could be some tourist admiring the view.

No, no. She's definitely looking at me right now. Right into my eyes.

Or maybe at my hair.

Is there something in my hair? Oh gosh, do I look funny? My face is heating up.

You're thinking too hard about it, Cheese.

No, no I'm not. Did she get closer or am I imagining it? Oh gosh I'm not ready.

I didn't even notice I had switched the tune again when a man came right up to with a few bucks in his hand.

“Ill give ya' fifteen to shut it, lover boy.”

“Done!” I said to him with a wide smile, packing up my accordion back into its case. I've made enough for a day anyways.

Before I can look back up at her, she's gone. I try to find her in the crowd, but it looks like she already left. I felt disappointment settle in my stomach. Except it felt like rocks were weighing me down with every breath I took.

Great, you missed your chance. The one interesting thing that could've happened to you this week.

Choosing to ignore you, Me. I can't tell what this feeling is. It felt like I just sat through an interview. Except I want to see her again. Badly.

Shaking my head, I hold my case and start my journey home. I should just forget about her.

Feeling a buzz from my phone, I whip it out. Great, extra shift tomorrow. Why won't he just hire more? Or do folks just not apply there.
I wouldn't either. I mean I did, but- whatever.

After what felt like a short forty minute walk to my apartment, I finally reached my door. Opening it up, I entered and practically sunk onto my bed.

I couldn't help but think about earlier. It felt like there was something pulling me towards her. Was this normal? I feel like a creep.

This is stupid. Here I am, blushing like a little girl. I bet if I saw her again I wouldn't even remember her.

I get up to wash my face then plop right back into bed, ready to clock out of the day.

Tomorrow would be just another day.