The Heckler

There is a man who sits at his 2nd floor window on Pineapple Street - white hair that could use a wash, upper 60s perhaps - and heckles.

You walk by? You're a candidate. 

Parking your car? Get ready. 

Feeling like a cup of joe this Sunday morning from the coffee shop below? Oh man, you gonna get it.

It's one of my favorite things to sit on the sidewalk bench when the weather's right on Sundays, sipping coffee and admiring the Cosby Show-esque brownstones, observing unaccustomed passersby react to his hateful comments:

"Ohhhh I just looove my coffeeeee like I've never had a coffeeeee before today it's the first time I got a stupid coffeeee oooooohhhhhhh."

"I have an ideaaa, lemme ignore the street signs and clog up the street with my car just so I can make life miserable for everybodyyyy, oh YEAH that's a GREAT idea." 

"I loooooove my phone ohhh I'm just walking around back and forth talking on the phone ohhh I'm SOOO special and have such important things to say."

The Heckler has probably had to deal with watching newbies infiltrate his neighborhood but the truth is, it really ain't that bad. You can hear the sound of crisp leaves graze the asphalt on the breeze. People typically stop their cars briefly to read the signs to avoid a ticket. Most are walking in a quiet smile to themselves just wantin' a coffee, wondering if they'll get the raisin bran muffin today. And then, they're suddenly slammed by the echoing voice from upstairs.

Sometimes, a novice thinks, "Wait, am I a horrible person?" Others furrow their brow in genuine confusion. If it's a lucky day, you get other white-haired guy who drives past and yells back up at him, "Ahhhhhhh shut up you f#@%ing nut!" Ultimately, everyone laughs.

If the Heckler takes a day off, I kinda miss him. Or maybe I miss the laughter practice. Goodness knows he's helped me learn to laugh off the dark-haired heckler, mid 30s, who echoes from upstairs in my head.