Last week, while strolling down a relatively nice alley, I came across something peculiar written on a board covering a broken window. It said
If you’re anything like me (and really, what are the odds of that?) you see something like that and you immediately start asking a whole series of completely unanswerable questions. What’s happening on that date? Why should I save it? Why would anybody put that request (if it is a request) on a board covering a broken window in an alley? Sure, it’s a relatively nice alley, but c’mon. For whom is this invitation (if it is an invitation) intended? Am I supposed to save the entire day? Just the evening? Is the event (assuming there is an event associated with that date) taking place in the alley? And finally, what the fuck, really?
There’s not much point in having questions if you don’t actually ask them, right? So I decided to ask them.
I packed some chalk in a pocket of my jacket, stuck my little Fujifilm X10 in the other pocket, took myself right back to the alleyway, and…and I stood there, realizing I couldn’t ask all those questions. For one thing, I didn’t have enough chalk. Nor enough space. So I had to satisfy myself with asking just one question. It’s a wee bit hard to see in the small version, but I left a little note asking:
WHAT AM I SAVING THE DATE FOR?
Leo Babauta says the questions we ask determines the type of people we become. If so, it seems I’ve become the type of person who stands in alleys and asks ‘What the fuck?’
I’ll check back periodically (it’s a relatively nice alley, after all) to see if I get an answer. If an answer arrives, I’ll be sure to let y’all know.