The Un-missed Connection
Today, I guess by now it's the morning, I was on my way home from my friend's house watching "How to Loose a Guy in 10 Days" and I was catching the last 54C bus home which according the PAT website was due at 2:24am. As a side note I also google-transited (a verb which is perfectly acceptable since the birth of this marvelous search engine though maybe not in that context) and according to their website I would have to walk across a bridge and take another bus since the 54C stops running at 12:24 according to them. So I was a little nervous and had various contingency plans ranging from calling my room-mate and begging a ride to walking all the way home (picture hills... lots of them).
And there he was, tiny old white man dressed in a leather jacket and slurily muttering to himself. A person that people love to ignore and pretend doesn't exist. You can imagine his surprise that someone was responding to whatever he was saying ( I still don't think I caught most of it). But he helped me look up the time for the bus (again) and kept me company from all the people walking home from the nearby bars. To give you a taste of those people walking home: I was reaching in my purse for my glasses so I could identify the bus as it was coming and two guys walked by and said if you are reaching for mace spray my friend here first... right guys apparently you think I should be reaching for the mace about now. Again a group of friends mostly guys (really tall and heavyset) tried their best to strike up a conversation, when I just smiled politely and turned away they tried to get through to me by talking to mr. grandfather standing next to me. They tried to get me angry by saying that I was his girl, where I said that I was not his girl, that I'm my own girl and that he just helped me out with the bus schedule. You guys should have seen how proud Mr. grandfather was to hear that I was okay with associating with him. So after the group gives up and gets in a taxi, me and mr. grandfather keep talking. By talking of course I mean him mumbling and me smiling and nodding and asking a question here or there to try and catch what he was saying.
So the bus comes and we sit in different parts of the bus, him in the senior seats near the front, me a few rows back. As I get off the bus he sticks out his hand. I grab it lean in to hear the words take care, and I kiss him on his cheek and tell him to take care of himself. I truly hope he does.
I know he was drunk. I know that perhaps my sense of self-preservation didn't really kick in tonight. Yet I can't help feel that I just did what I was supposed to do and it was alright.
So now I have safely arrived home, with no conflicts and I'm writing partly to share with those who read this, and partly to put some importance to it. Despite such a short meeting maybe short meetings mean something and even the smallest interactions can brighten someones day.
And there he was, tiny old white man dressed in a leather jacket and slurily muttering to himself. A person that people love to ignore and pretend doesn't exist. You can imagine his surprise that someone was responding to whatever he was saying ( I still don't think I caught most of it). But he helped me look up the time for the bus (again) and kept me company from all the people walking home from the nearby bars. To give you a taste of those people walking home: I was reaching in my purse for my glasses so I could identify the bus as it was coming and two guys walked by and said if you are reaching for mace spray my friend here first... right guys apparently you think I should be reaching for the mace about now. Again a group of friends mostly guys (really tall and heavyset) tried their best to strike up a conversation, when I just smiled politely and turned away they tried to get through to me by talking to mr. grandfather standing next to me. They tried to get me angry by saying that I was his girl, where I said that I was not his girl, that I'm my own girl and that he just helped me out with the bus schedule. You guys should have seen how proud Mr. grandfather was to hear that I was okay with associating with him. So after the group gives up and gets in a taxi, me and mr. grandfather keep talking. By talking of course I mean him mumbling and me smiling and nodding and asking a question here or there to try and catch what he was saying.
So the bus comes and we sit in different parts of the bus, him in the senior seats near the front, me a few rows back. As I get off the bus he sticks out his hand. I grab it lean in to hear the words take care, and I kiss him on his cheek and tell him to take care of himself. I truly hope he does.
I know he was drunk. I know that perhaps my sense of self-preservation didn't really kick in tonight. Yet I can't help feel that I just did what I was supposed to do and it was alright.
So now I have safely arrived home, with no conflicts and I'm writing partly to share with those who read this, and partly to put some importance to it. Despite such a short meeting maybe short meetings mean something and even the smallest interactions can brighten someones day.