I had an amazing weekend in Boston with Matt. Everything went great (except for the small electrical fire in my car the flared up just outside of NYC). But more on that later. I really want to post a blog about my Boston trip, and I even have some nice pictures. However after what happend to me last night I'm going to put Boston on hold for now.
Get comfy and read this:
The train pulled into Penn Station without indecent. Getting off the train was no different than exiting an airplane. Only the conductors didn't go, "buh bye. Bye bye now. Buh bye. Watch your step." It was more like we pull into the station and they're the first ones off (a new crew gets on at NYC). I got off the train, and made my way to the escalator. I was about to step on when I hear, "Excuse me." I turned to see this woman; mid-fifties, straw-blonde hair, slightly wrinkled, and clearly frazzled. She tried to manage a bag from some shoe store, a roller bag, an over night bag, her purse, and some smallish fluffy pooch. "Could you hold some of this while I hold my dog?" She gestures towards the escalator. I looked at the the long white and brown hairs of the dog; imagining them tangle in the stairs of the escalator.
"Sure, no problem," I said with a smile. So she wrangled her dog and I wrestled the bags behind her.
at the top of the stairs I moved out of everyones way, arranged her belongs in a manageable stack, and got ready to hand them to her. Before I could be go she asked me, "which way is the subway?" I gestured to the other end of the hall at the 1,2,3 line. "I need to get to 53rd and Lex," she said, "Will the 1 take me there? I don't want to pay for a cab."
"Oh no ma'am. You're on the wrong side of the island," I said. I tried to explain the series of trains she'd need to take to get where she wanted. I wasn't sure if the shuttle from 42nd to Grand Central was running, and I'd forgotten about the E (as Justin pointed out). She looked at me with this helpless/lost look. "How am I going to manage all the stairs?" she asked. I told her most stations have elevators (God was I wrong about that). I told here I'd take her down to 14th St. and get her onto the L train thinking she'd be fine from there. It's at this moment her dog stops walking and takes a runny shit in the middle of Penn Station. I don't know what was more startling: The sudden defecation, or the fact that NO ONE CARED or gave it a second look. What a city.
Fast forward to 14th St. We got off the 3 and I tried to find an elevator to get her up to the tunnel to the L. No such elevator. Apparently NYC and the Americans with Disabilities Act aren't friends. So I haul her bags up the stairs and pull them down the tunnel while she continues with her extended tail of woe.
Apparently she's from Boston, but now lives in Rhode Island. She's in NYC to take some people to court for identity theft and other horrid things. (Justin is skeptical). She also says she's out $4,000,000. I almost tripped over her bag when she said this. (I stumbled at the mention of the number, and at the nonchalance tone she said it in). We got to the L train, but low and behold...no elevator to the platform. So I juggled her bags down while she talked more. On the platform we waited for the L. Then she pointed out a very unconvincing cross-dresser to me. "Oh my gawd. That's a guy right? Look...LOOK! He's got a 5 O'clock shadow!"
"Yeah probably. It is New York after all. Strange things and what-not. SO! tell me more about your life!" trying desperately to get her to keep her attention on me and not her surroundings. Last thing I need her to say is something offensive like, "I get nervous around all these people." I'll let you infer the meaning.
We make it to Union Square where there is an elevator to the concourse. However we shared it with a strung out homeless man. He pushed a dilapidated office chair that held a box-fan, and the board game: Stratego. "I'm trying to make my way you know? Going to court for what I done. This is all I got right here (he gestures the chairs contents). I'm selling these game pieces to get food money. Ya know man? yeah..." he said all that with lot of effort. We exited the elevator quickly.
Now I just wanted to put her on the 6 and tell her good luck, but the previous mention of 4-mil peaked my interest. That and I hate seeing tasks unfinished. We were almost there after all. I think really though I felt bad for her. Lost, and unprepared to deal with this place on her own. Empathy always wins.
We didn't find an elevator down to the 6. Thankfully the train ride was uneventful. The dog inspected people curiously then hid under the seats. The woman (she never told me her name) regaled me with more details about these people she's prosecuting. I feigned interest. As long as she's not talking about other things. We got off at 51st to find no elevator at the platform. So more bag hauling. She was really glad I decided to be her guide.
I took her to the hotel but she asked for a quick detour to CVS. I was already hopelessly out of my way in both time and distance, so what was 10 more minutes? I stood outside the door holding the bags, and the dog. She exited CVS looking exasperated. "Do you mind if we go to Duane-Read? It's only 3 blocks up?" Well, why the hell not.
She marched into Duane-Read with her dog in tow. She'd forgotten to give me the thing. Sensing impending conflict I followed her in. As I walked in I heard a clerk try to tell her dogs aren't allowed in the store. This is where she pretended to be "hard of hearing" because you know, they have small lap dogs for the hard of hearing. I heard the clerk mumble something about the manger and watched her walk to the back.
The woman marched to the pharmacy and asked if they had 90mg of Adderall or generic brand. It's at this point I needed to sit down. "Who are you?" I wanted to yell. But I just stood there as she asked them call another pharmacy to see if they had any. The pharmacist said that his particular pharmacy was out. (Side note, who runs out of Adderall? My guess is the pharmacist didn't want to deal with her. She probably didn't even have a prescription). The other pharmacy didn't have any either, and she looked like she was going to make a stink about it. Thankfully the manager was walking over so she turned and went up a different way towards the door. I followed close enough so she knew I was there, but far enough away to pretend I didn't know her if a scene erupted.
The manager swooped in before she got to the door saying something about the dog rule, but she just walked as if he wasn't there. I tried to make a face that would explain he whole situation, but probably just looked uncomfortable. I ran off after her, bag wheels rumbling behind me.
I caught up to her on the corner looking lost. She acted as if nothing strange happend. I didn't upset that delusion. Frankly I just wanted to be rid of her. So I took her to the hotel, and into the lobby. As she talked to the desk clerk about a matter of getting points settled I tied up her dog, stacked her bags, and handed her her purse.
"Well here you are. This nice man will summon he bell hop to help you from here," I said, "Is there something else I can do?" (Please say no, please say no. I thought). She said I'd been so helpful, and was reluctant to let me go. "Where else am I going to find a helpful person in this city?" She said. I said something about not being the only nice guy in New York (I think the clerk stifled a laugh).
"Well at least let me give you something for your trouble," she said. Now I knew this was coming, and I'll admit I saw $$$ in my head when I decided to take her all the way to the hotel. I'd even thought about how many times to politely decline before giving in (I picked 2). But to be honest, I really couldn't see myself not doing what I'd just done. Those who know me best will agree.
So she opens her wallet and thumbs past a bunch of $20's in search of a specific bill. I got pretty excited when she kept thumbing past $20's. Then finally she pulls out a crisp...5$. I take it with a smile and gratitude; knowing full well that I couldn't get 1/8 of the way home in a taxi with 5$. I gave her a hug, pet the dog, then walked out of the lobby. As I left I heard her sing my praises to the clerk.
"Can you believe this kid? .....all the way from Penn Station....carried my bags....NYC is such a great place." That was actually pretty rewarding.
I walked to Columbus station, and sat on bench waiting for the 1. I leaned forward with my head in my hands. After a few moments I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked to the see the (probably) homeless man next to me give me a concerned look. "Are you alright son?" he asked. I thought to myself, "you're asking me?" but I just said, "Yes. Just a long night, trying to get home."
He sounded like an older Antonio Banderas, and smelled like gin. I also noticed his four fingered hand leave my shoulder as he smiled at me with bloodshot eyes. "Do you believe in God my friend?" he asked. Not wanting to get caught up in what would surely be an attempt to convert me, or a debate about personal-spiritual-philosophy, I just nodded at him. He smiled and continued, "When I'm sad I think about Peter the apostle. And how Jesus said when things get tough, I am always with you. And then I smile because I don't feel alone anymore." I kept nodding. I had no idea if anything he said was remotely accurate to scripture. "Just remember when your down, and things are tough, you're never alone," he said in a wave of gin ladend exhalations. I smiled and nodded some more.
The train pulled into the station and I mentally willed him to stay seated. He did, but only after holding his hand up saying, "Give me four son. God Bless you my friend."I backed into the train and the doors slid shut in front of me. He made the sign of the cross at me while the train lurched away. I slid down into a seat.
"What the fuck just happened?" At that moment I just realized I could have given him the $5. It would have been pretty fitting right?
Got home, thought about all the karma points I earned, what my gin soaked friend had to say.
I think he's right that we're not alone when times are tough. But Maybe we should be more inclined to look for help from around us, not above us.
~n
No comments:
Post a Comment