I did it. I impersonated a charity walker on day 3 of raising awareness and money for the breasts, to fight the cancer. But I did not mean to. I swear. It started innocent as always. I do hate that saying the road to hell is paved to good intentions ringing in my ear. I hate hearing it all. I was busting ass to meet a friend. Wearing my purple clad jersey t- man make x-small v-neck of my American apparel and jeans and my toms. Typical outfit for meeting of the friends. For hearing of the bands. In the park. I am doing the speed walk when you swing your hands up and down the swim stroke of walking I am doing that the freestyle sprint of walking. My pool lane my sidewalk. A flip turn might be interesting.
I see a crowd and cheering. And think oh there must be an event. Until I am in the sea of the pink and release the cheers around me are cheers those around me. Yay for them. But wait no one is walking through the crowd but other than me. The cheers are for me. The sea of the crowd surrounds both sides of the street. Eyes full of admiration are mine. Oh shit. I am look down I am not wearing pink. I speed walk faster and try to get the hell out there. It doesn’t help. They cheer louder. Now people are offering me waters. I refuse and they insist. Please take it- it has been a long day. They say. With their eyes. Cheers resound for me. The imposter. I am offered a power bar but decline. Although my stomach rumbles. I want to shake my hands around sporadically around-no not me glowing in the redness of embarrassment as I laugh uncomfortably and quieting underneath my breath. Stop. Please stop. I am just late.
The guilt I am feeling to mistaken for someone, someone who actually walked for three days and raised money someone who might have lost one of her lady lumps or lost someone who did. My face squeezes tightly wincing for these cheers and faces and free food and water would disappear. You can’t stand in the middle of the crowd and start yelling No stop cheering me on. That would be weird. No this is weird. So I do what I can. I speed walk fast up the hill almost running- running in the race of me against the cheers away from my cheering squad.
Safe. I am. There was nothing to do. But tell via the device the text of my friends about my monkey in the middle game of perfectly bad timing. They cheered me on. When I found them sitting outside that café on divisadero. And asked where was the water and power bars were. Left for the real walkers. Not the imposters like me. By accident. Of course. But I can’t steal from someone who actually making sacrifices. God Kate you could have least got some water. I couldn’t bear the immorality of it. Stealing water from the real walkers- the real do gooders. Do the right thing is doing the right thing when no one is watching.
That was the day. The day I was mistaken for a 3-day walker, when I had only been walking for a few minutes. Good story. Over coffee or beers. Everyone laughs for this one. But the cheers without the work felt empty and embarrassing and reminded me how much the working matters. Even in our world that praises be the best at all costs. In anyway possible. Cut corners, screw people over, do what you can to get ahead we all sing in unison as we walk to nowhere fast. Follow the leader gone terribly wrong. Unless we stop to think. So many people walk in charity walks for just a few minutes and collect the prizes and giveaways and glow from the accomplishment. But it’s not real like so many things. That day.
That day I felt what other people might feel when they do things. That they do for others to only see. Some people live for the eyes of others. Sometimes I might be like them. But I do the work. And I do want the cheers of others. But not as an imposter. As the real thing. And most of the time. I will be cheering someone else on. In my purple shirt. In a sea of pink. Handing out waters, and hall passes, and advice and, time, and listening to those passing by.
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