Member-only story
I yelled “I Do!” at a Busker
From fire tricks and dark jokes to a glimpse of pain — one handshake I won’t forget
The Plea
“Hello? I am about to start! Hello? Anyone? I am about to DO something!!!”
The voice came out sharp and pleading, amplified through a speaker somewhere ahead of me. There was something almost manic in the tone — desperate, helpless, impossible to ignore.
I rounded the corner to find a busker with a big suitcase. “Does ANYONE want to see my show???” he shouted.
“I do!” I called back, flashing my brightest smile.
He grinned. “Okay. So I have one. Thanks.”
Then, his voice booming through the speaker: “How wonderful to have you. My AudiENT — get it? Just singular?”
I gave him a thumbs up.
“Ah, you have thumbs. Great.”
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Here,” I said, pointing at the ground beneath us. I meant “from this city” but he took it as:
“Oh, I get it,” he chuckled. “You’re homeless.” He did a crazy dance, bowing grandly. “I’m probably in your living room. You’re welcome.”
