sweat spit & tears
What a way to end my time in Boston.
At Central, a crowd of people waiting to get on a full train. A girl, 15-16 and her presumed boyfriend. I notice she's loud, maybe had been drinking. I'm the last one on the train and they try to fit but can't. She says No way, I have to get on this train and he says That bastard won't move, indicating the man two people to my left. I am facing all this. She begins yelling at him, and as the doors are closing, the man spits on her, a shower of little drops. The door closes and she bangs on the glass in front of the man's face, cracking the glass.
And if the story ended there, it'd be different.
But the doors opened again, like they often do on the T, and she was yelling He spit on me and her boyfriend held the doors open and said This train isn't going anywhere, He spit on her, You can't hit her she's a girl. And she's saying I know you want to hit me and the man is saying nothing and the train is hot and the crowd is restless. No one does anything. We are lulled into watching this unfold. Eventually, after a long time, a girl their age, maybe 17 or 18, steps toward the couple and says If you're going to spit on him, then spit on him to the girl. And the girl does, a large loogie. And the doors close. And we pull away, with the older girl talking to them and their arms all around each other.
I cry the three stops to my destination & look at the man and shake my head. No one talks but the couple next to me, who say Thank god you were in front of me and I've got your back baby. And I think, why is it so hard for me to step in? Why when I am given a chance to practice being brave, do I stand there and observe and do nothing? Why did this man decide to spit on a girl? Why didn't he take the high road or teach her gently, with words? Why did he never say anything at all the whole time?
At Central, a crowd of people waiting to get on a full train. A girl, 15-16 and her presumed boyfriend. I notice she's loud, maybe had been drinking. I'm the last one on the train and they try to fit but can't. She says No way, I have to get on this train and he says That bastard won't move, indicating the man two people to my left. I am facing all this. She begins yelling at him, and as the doors are closing, the man spits on her, a shower of little drops. The door closes and she bangs on the glass in front of the man's face, cracking the glass.
And if the story ended there, it'd be different.
But the doors opened again, like they often do on the T, and she was yelling He spit on me and her boyfriend held the doors open and said This train isn't going anywhere, He spit on her, You can't hit her she's a girl. And she's saying I know you want to hit me and the man is saying nothing and the train is hot and the crowd is restless. No one does anything. We are lulled into watching this unfold. Eventually, after a long time, a girl their age, maybe 17 or 18, steps toward the couple and says If you're going to spit on him, then spit on him to the girl. And the girl does, a large loogie. And the doors close. And we pull away, with the older girl talking to them and their arms all around each other.
I cry the three stops to my destination & look at the man and shake my head. No one talks but the couple next to me, who say Thank god you were in front of me and I've got your back baby. And I think, why is it so hard for me to step in? Why when I am given a chance to practice being brave, do I stand there and observe and do nothing? Why did this man decide to spit on a girl? Why didn't he take the high road or teach her gently, with words? Why did he never say anything at all the whole time?