Title: Breach of Privacy
Author: Amber (Ambino1111@prodigy.net)
Rating: G (trust me)
Classification: This doesn't even classify as fluff. I'm not sure what to call it. A vignette?
Disclaimer: My name doesn't show up in the credits on The West Wing, so it's safe to assume they're not mine.
Archive: I don't think it's good enough, but if you want it let me know.
Author's Note: For some strange reason, this popped into my head late one night (well, early one morning) when I was trying to fall asleep. I literally couldn't rest until I wrote it down. I hope it's not all that bad, and if it is I apologize in advance.
I'll admit it - I haven't done it in a while.
It's sad, really. When I was in college, I'd slip away to do it at least twice a day - one time for four hours straight.
Now that I'm the White House Deputy Chief of Staff I have no time for hobbies. I try to squeeze some in every now and then, but it's difficult. I'm recognizable now. However, most people don't notice me when I do it in public, although I do get the occasional weird glance.
Donna doesn't like when I do it, especially with people I don't know. I tried to tell her that it works best that way, but she muttered something about too much free time and a breach of privacy. I don't talk about it with her anymore.
Sam understands what I do. He does it, too. He even started at an earlier age. As much as I hate to admit it, he's probably better at it than I am. He does, after all, have the soul of a poet. Toby, too, although I'm fairly certain he hasn't done it recently.
I don't remember all the times anymore, and the faces blurred together long ago. Of course, I never expected to recall each and every one, but at the time I thought I could. I wanted to. The sad truth is just that there were too many people.
I'd have to say it helped me develop my people skills dramatically. I might not have gotten this job if I hadn't done it so frequently and so well. In that regard, I have to thank my parents, who always encouraged me, and my sister Joanie, who didn't laugh at my first attempt. Her gentle criticism and suggestions helped me improve so readily.
I guess it's for that reason that I think of my sister whenever I go people-watching. I stake out a comfortable bench, preferably in the shade, pull out a notebook and pen, and start writing. It's a creative writing exercise she showed me once. People walk and talk with their friends, while others enjoy a quiet meal in the sunshine. I study each person intensely, scrutinizing their body language, their clothes, their faces. Then I craft lives, complete with relatives, friends, responsibilities, bad habits, et cetera, for each of them. It's quite entertaining.
People-watching taught me how to judge a person's character, an ability that is invaluable when dealing with politicians and readers with dirty minds.
See, it wasn't that good, but I had to share it. Now that I've done what the voices told me to, I can move on to bigger and better fics.