Peep Show

I typed the word "voyeur" into my google search engine, hoping to just get a wikipedia definition or a quick reference, and instead ended up with a list that's, well, let's just say, don't try it while you're at work. It's a good thing I am in the privacy of me, myself, and my computer, who all happen to know what I am really looking for at this late hour on Saturday night.

My thoughts on voyeurism go far beyond its inherent sexual connotations. To me, it is all about viewing without being viewed in return, regardless of what it is that's being viewed. While some possess the urge to spy on a neighbor's bedroom behavior, others may want to innocently check out a neighbor's taste in bedroom decor. I am a voyeur when it comes to food. Fly on the wall, mouse in the corner, call it what you will - I love to spy on kitchens. And I suspect I am not alone. The popularity of the Food Network and other food-based reality shows can bear witness to that.

I was walking down Broadway the other day when I suddenly found myself outside of Gotham Hall, eye-level with a window featuring the scene captured in the photo below. I snapped that quick picture and then watched with snooping pleasure as the men in the white coats scurried about to finish each dish just so. Despite my proximity to the plate, I have no idea what it was - it looked like a crispy, noodley nest filled with salad and veggies. I was envisioning myself dressed in Chanel, strutting through Gotham Hall, taking my place at a table beneath the tall and gorgeous domed ceiling at a glamorous gala. Oh, and there are paparazzi, too. They are snapping pictures of me with fork in hand, poised and posed, ready to explore my crispy, noodley, nest sculpture.

I finally snap out of it. One of the white coat-guys is waving at me, and this voyeur is totally busted. I rush off, flushed and a little embarrassed, but hey, I'm not hurting anyone with my fantasizing. At least that's what we voyeurs tell ourselves.