The Button Pusher

A story about the amazing, kind, seemingly pointless things we do for others

There once was a person. And all this person did was stand on the corner, by a crosswalk, and offer to push the “push to cross” button for people.

People around the neighbourhood called this person, The Button Pusher. 

As people approached the intersection, The Button Pusher would say, “How do you do? Can I push the button for you?” 

Most people would respond a little bewildered, pulled from whatever daydream they were on to respond, “Uh… yah… sure.”

Sometimes the unsuspecting person would also say, “thank you.”

And as the person crossed the street, The Button Pusher would shout to them, “Have a nice day, look both ways!”

Most people thought The Button Pusher was strange. It was strange they said, “how do you do” in this modern age. It was strange they always dressed the same way: an oversized smile like their oversized coat (even when it was steaming hot), and a bright aura perfectly reflected by their bright orange gloves. One couldn’t make out whether this person was a man or a woman. Or their age. Most of their skin was covered by clothing, and they wore a mask and sunglasses. 

The Button Pusher often saw the same people throughout their day. But everyday, they’d see brand new people too. Whether it was sunny, or sub zero, or pouring rain, The Button Pusher was on the corner pushing that button. 

The Button Pusher would take the time to get to know the regulars crossing at their intersection. Although, most of his conversation was related to the street signs, the traffic, and the new drink at the Starbucks across the intersection. 

Most people thought the Button Pusher was friendly and harmless. Although, most people also thought dedicating one’s life to providing such a simple convenience to people was a waste of time. Though The Button Pusher themselves, never once had this thought. 

Sometimes curious people would try to ask about The Button Pusher’s purpose. 

One day, a person walking by without much else to do, asked the Button Pusher, “what do you do?”

“I sleep. I eat sometimes. But mostly I just love helping people.” 

“But where do you live? How do you pay for your living expenses?”

“I live here. In the moment. Oh! Would you look at that? The light changed. Have a nice day, look both ways.”

The person without much to do, took that response as a sign it was better to just move along. 

Other folks would be a lot more aggressive in asking about The Button Pusher’s purpose. One day a particularly grumpy person said, “I can push my own button thanks very much. Maybe you should find a more productive way to fill your time!”

The Button Pusher was always empathetic in these situations and replied with, “I’m glad you like to push buttons too. Have a nice day, look both ways.” 

The Button Pusher didn’t let rude people like that get them down. They would usually get another thankful person soon after. 

One day, an elderly blind woman thanked him for providing a button push for him. The Button Pusher also noticed the giant paper Whole Foods bag bursting out of her tired arms. And although, the world didn’t know him as The Bag Carrier, he took on that responsibility making sure the woman got home safely. 

Once safe in her apartment she said, “thank you my friend. You’ve really helped me out today. What’s your name?”

The Button Pusher responded the way they always did with that question, “it doesn’t matter who I am, it matters more we all make it home safe.” 

One day, the regular folks who had grown accustomed to The Button Pusher had the corner were surprised to see he wasn’t there. Perhaps he was helping someone else to his front door. Perhaps he was on a rare bathroom or food break. But as the signals cycled, no one to push the button, The Button Pusher still didn’t return. 

Life went as it goes: days, weeks, months, and still to this day, no one has seen The Button Pusher. 

Some rumours floated around. A person said he’d been hired for his first real job as a crosswalk consultant. But most people were sure that position didn’t exist. 

Some people mentioned seeing him at other intersections. But as soon as someone went to check it out, The Button Pusher wasn’t there. 

Other people feared The Button Pusher may have finally been told to stop by authorities. Others feared The Button Pusher was dead. But most people didn’t feel that pang of grief in their heart. They figured he was still out there. In some way or another. 

But even if The Button Pusher was gone from the corner, they couldn’t be gone entirely. 

The Button Pusher lived for moments. That moment of pressing the button. The moment of the red hand cycles to a shiny bright person. The moment of relief when the person he helped makes it across the street with time still left on the countdown. 

And for the people he helped, he’d live on as a moment for them too. 

Moments and memories are the same thing. Except, memories are just moments from the past taking you out of the moment you’re in right now. 

For a second of everyone’s hectic days, The Button Pusher provided a moment. A chance to get away from the buzz of the brain and the street to ground themselves is a really odd, but mostly kind gesture. Where a strange person in a coat offered to do what could barely be considered a favour. But it stuck in people’s brains. Still does.

Any time people walked by that corner, or sometimes other intersections, they’d be pulled from the moment they were in, or another moment in their daydream, to relive the strange 30 second to one minute moment they had with The Button Pusher. Starting with a “how do you do?” and ending with a “look both ways!”

That Button Pusher moment became a story told by many people in many bars and parties and networking events around town. The story of the Button Pusher was always told as part of a great night out or a first date gone well. 

Without ever really meaning to do anything but push a button, The Button Pusher made a lot of people’s days better. Even long after they’d crossed the street back into their busy lives.