I have never written an entry like this, using only my right hand. Pity for me, too, because I am left-handed, which is where the problem began and begins, culminating in a rotator cuff injury combined with a history of bartending/ophthalmic/chalkboard bursitis.
Tonight, I want to see if I can write and (ultimately—if it proves necessary—right) a right-handed entry. Otherwise it could be days before I page-purge.
Anyway, while I waited on the leatherette seat in Eaton’s Centre this afternoon, my shopping bags too heavy to carry without assistance, I spent my time watching the passers-by, trying to determine the various types of shoppers.
Here, then, is what I saw:
Gawkers and gapers
Screamers and talkers
Wall-huggers, bee-liners,
Downtrodden walkers
Models and laggers
Knee-bending picture-takers
Smilers and tag-teamers
Loungers and Quakers
Wheelers and dealers
Gum-chewing gadabouts
Blackberry-/cell-phoners
Lost in their whereabouts
Eaters and drinkers,
Pushers and shovers
Hand holders, toters
Sistas and bruthas
You take my point. Although I should clarify that by wheelers I include chairs, skateboards and fancy kids’ sneakers. As for pushers, I’ll let you be the judge.
The people who sat next to me were far more interesting, but that story is better left (-handed?) for another day. Or as Paul used to say when his hockey team won, “Right arm!” (And people wonder why I left left left him.)
Anyway, as I used to hear over and over when I was a child, “Never let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.”
