Saturday, in the Park....not really, on the train. But how many of you just started singing that song by the 70s band Chicago? Huh? Huh?
So, Saturday: early start to get to a rehearsal in far away Bay Ridge. There's a meal cart vendor around the corner in my 'hood that makes a good, cheap bacon, egg and cheese, but today I want to see if any of the bakeries I've noticed closer to the subway have any good, fresh baked treats.
Insert sound of game show 'WRONG' buzzer here. The bakeries all had saran wrapped, gross looking muffins. Yuch. So I try the cart vendor near the train entrance. Yuch, again. The roll was toasted, however, the egg was thin and he used FAKE BACON. Do I even need to talk about how wrong that is?!?!
Aaaandddd he charged me $4!! My regular near the corner only charges me $3.50 for the sandwich and the coffee. And New Vendor Guy even had a sign saying the $4 deal included a juice. So I took one. and not the Sunny D that the breakfast deal included. I took an apple juice, damnit. So There.
Anyway, so I get on the train and I sit in one of those seats that abut other seats, the ones where you're sitting with your back to someone else? I usually don't like those because sometimes people's hair touches yours and that creeps me out. There must have not been anyone in the behind-me seat when I sat down, otherwise I don't think I would have chosen that seat. So, I'm messing with the coffee New Vendor Guy gave me in a leaky cup that looks like it was maybe used, and I finally sit up and something bumps the back of my head. I feel behind my head, and all I feel is the steel vertical seat bar. So I return to whatever I'm messing with. Eventually I sit up again and I bump my head again. So I turn around to see what's up and this very black lady is glaring at me and I notice she had her hair wrapped up on the back of her head and it sticks out about a foot. So I say, "You have big hair!" in a very friendly, kind of joyous way. Ya know what she says? In a confrontational aggressive way? "And you can't sit still!"
"All I did was sit up straight in my seat"
"Well, don't sit up!"
"Excuse Me! You're telling me not to sit up in my own seat on the train?"
OK. Let me move to another seat.
"Oh, now you gonna move to another seat!?"
Uh, well, yah, is that rocket science?
So she continues yelling at me, and I just say "well you DO have big hair. It's not like an insult. You just do!" But she's stuck on my ants-in-the-pants label, so I finally start saying "we don't have to hate each other". I pretty quickly give that up though.
After a little bit this really skinny guy comes on and starts preachin Jesus. Oh, hell no. No, no, no, no, no. Big Hair Lady already has me turned on, plus I'm a little pissed off about New Vendor Guys Fake Bacon, so I can't help myself and I word vomit to him "I paid too much for my ticket on this train to listen to THIS. Do you want to pay for my ticket?!" Some passengers smile at me. "Right?!", they laugh. But he just keeps preachin his crap so i put on my headphones.
A lot of the train clears out after this point, but a new guy comes on handing out little slips of paper to everyone, not really asking if they want it, just giving it to them. He comes near me and I say "You don't want to give me one cause I'll Yell." No problem, he doesn't. I'm really curious about what's written on it, but not enough to ask for one. After he hands them out he goes back to the other end of the train and passes his hat. - - - - -
Really?
This is a new trick. This is a new one. I've never seen this before. Hand people your art work, or poem, unasked, unsolicited, almost forced - and then ask for money for it. I have to admire the pro-active attitude. Isn't that the American way? Isn't that how the American Dream is realized.
Ahem
On the train home from rehearsal, there is a homeless man walking the car, not even asking for anything. He doesn't have to, his appearance asks for him. Well I assume he's homeless. He's wearing tatters, he's unshaven, he's very thin, and he has no shoes. It's the last bit that slays me; his long thin bare feet that he is trying not to step on as he walks, obviously in pain. I always look at the footwear of panhandlers. If you have better kicks than me, I am not giving you coin. I empty out my change purse for this guy. I really want to take him to buy shoes, but I don't even know how to initiate that. And he's old. Someone's son, brother, uncle, maybe father? Grandfather? and uncared for. alone. I know there are those who refuse help, who choose to live on the streets. Shouldn't there be some way for them to be cared for? It's just not right to punish people for non-conformity. This is a complicated issue to some. To me it's simple. If you are not hurting anyone there should be a way for you to have the basic needs. Period.
I feel helpless. and empty. and incredibly sad. What circumstances brought him to this? He does not appear drugged or jonesing - just, plain destitute. I am embarrassed that we live in a society that has such callous disregard for the well being of it's members.
I would much rather be able to laugh about someone's creative way of panhandling as they try to promote their own creation than to be wondering why an old, sick man has no shoes.
And I'd love to end with an upbeat line about looking forward to next Saturday's train ride to Bay Ridge, and all the adventures it will provide. But I know I will see too many bodies sleeping on cardboard in the subway entrances.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Monday, October 1, 2012
AwwwShiznit
I'm a little freaking out right now. OK. I'm a lot freaking out right now. A BIG part of it is that I have a cold. For some reason, when I get sick I get all needy and insecure. And needy. (Warning: this post is full of bad grammatical choices).
Aaand I just got this weird call from Arizona informing me some charges had gone through on my bank card. They want to know, did I make them? Nope. I did not just buy $300 worth of shoes at Zappos. No. That was definitely not me. Ok we have to cancel your card.
Freaking out big time.
My bank is still in NH because I can't find a credit union here that has literal free checking like my NH bank does. So I depend on my debit card for all my transactions. Taking cash out of the ATM is costly. And I can't even do that now till I get a new card. Hopefully there'll be a bank that'll cash checks for me in the meantime.
I was starting to feel pretty settled and competent here in the city. I live here now and everything is going to work out. That's how I felt.
But I've had monkey mind since Saturday. I was assured by my friend, while we were playing with makeup on Sunday, that I appear very patient and calm. BUT I'M NOT the voice inside my head is screaming while it beats its fists against the sides of its hips jumping side to side like Tigger on crack.
When my daughter left the nest three years ago (THREE. COUNT EM) I wasn't immediately conscious of the loss I felt. I mean, she lives here in the city, well Brooklyn, but close enough. But for eighteen years it was just the two of us. I still feel like a little row boat lost at sea, but most of the time I find a tie-off at work, or rehearsal, or hanging with friends. This card thing has me in the middle of a whirlpool wondering which side I'm gonna fly off of: Port? Stern? Fore? Aft?
And last night I kept having nightmares about being at an outdoors party except I was working at a desk and everyone wasn't nice. And there was a bag of pastel clothing - truly frightening.
I'm trying to pinpoint what it is I feel so wigged out about. There's a part of me that just knows everything's going to be OK. I have friends who will be available if I get in a desperate situation, but that's not going to happen. Even if I imagine the worst that can happen, I mean, what's the worst that can happen? Don't answer that.
Maybe it's time to bite the bullet and open an account here in the city. Cringe.
I don't even think I'm going to have time for that this week tho. I have rehearsal almost every night after work.
On the upside, I really want to save some money, and not having access to my account will certainly accomplish that. I mean, I came very close to making some purchases that would have spent as much as the thieves did today, but I reigned myself in.
Well, now. I feel all better. This is actually a good thing. I might just find my frugal side again.
And I realize, the biggest thing that makes me feel adrift is being by myself. If I had someone, a partner to be talking to about this, to reassure me, to make me laugh, and to depend on practically, this would all be a big ol' joyride.
Which brings me to what I really think; this is just the next lesson. Because I didn't even tell you about the platform nazi who semi-attacked me at rush hour today. He called me a Jew and everything. It was really clear that he was a bully. OK. Here's what happened. I'm on the platform, waiting for the A train. A really crowded one comes, and I have a huge bag with me cause I had my dad send my fur coat (which I got at a craft fair in 1985 for $50) because I might wear it in one of my shows, so I wait for the next one. It didn't come as quickly as I thought it would, so the platform filled up again. I'm standing near the elevator and this double carriage comes out and clips me on the leg. No biggy, the guy didn't see me, whatever. So when the train does come, I slither in front of this double baby carriage, which is now facing the train as the guy thinks he's gonna get on a rush hour train with this thing. Anyway, I'm waiting for the train to stop and unload and I feel a shove on my calves. I turn around and the guy is gesticulating at me. "Did you just shove me?!" I ask. He gesticulates about my slithering in front of his carriage. I shove the carriage back at him. "Don't shove me!"
He comes around the carriage like he's gonna hit me, with this creepy smile on his face. I just stand there. He goes, "Jew". I said, "What did you say?" He smiles and goes, "Yah". I yell something about derogatory terms, which I realize after wasn't what I meant, and also realize afterwards that he probably beats his little wife and enjoys it immensely, but I was on the train by then, far from the madding crowd, and completely aware that this moon phase has passed into it's waning phase and - Oh. Thanks Universe. This. is what's up. Awesome. And now the thing about the card.
But it really is all going to be ok. I mean, didn't someone post a picture of Jean-Luc in a "This is what a feminist looks like" T-shirt? Yah. Plus my waiter when I took myself out to dinner (and that's a perk right there; that I can do that) had a hispanic accent like the hispanic guy on That 70s Show. Made my night. Until the card thing.
Awwwwshiznit I'm gonna try and smile anyway
Aaand I just got this weird call from Arizona informing me some charges had gone through on my bank card. They want to know, did I make them? Nope. I did not just buy $300 worth of shoes at Zappos. No. That was definitely not me. Ok we have to cancel your card.
Freaking out big time.
My bank is still in NH because I can't find a credit union here that has literal free checking like my NH bank does. So I depend on my debit card for all my transactions. Taking cash out of the ATM is costly. And I can't even do that now till I get a new card. Hopefully there'll be a bank that'll cash checks for me in the meantime.
I was starting to feel pretty settled and competent here in the city. I live here now and everything is going to work out. That's how I felt.
But I've had monkey mind since Saturday. I was assured by my friend, while we were playing with makeup on Sunday, that I appear very patient and calm. BUT I'M NOT the voice inside my head is screaming while it beats its fists against the sides of its hips jumping side to side like Tigger on crack.
When my daughter left the nest three years ago (THREE. COUNT EM) I wasn't immediately conscious of the loss I felt. I mean, she lives here in the city, well Brooklyn, but close enough. But for eighteen years it was just the two of us. I still feel like a little row boat lost at sea, but most of the time I find a tie-off at work, or rehearsal, or hanging with friends. This card thing has me in the middle of a whirlpool wondering which side I'm gonna fly off of: Port? Stern? Fore? Aft?
And last night I kept having nightmares about being at an outdoors party except I was working at a desk and everyone wasn't nice. And there was a bag of pastel clothing - truly frightening.
I'm trying to pinpoint what it is I feel so wigged out about. There's a part of me that just knows everything's going to be OK. I have friends who will be available if I get in a desperate situation, but that's not going to happen. Even if I imagine the worst that can happen, I mean, what's the worst that can happen? Don't answer that.
Maybe it's time to bite the bullet and open an account here in the city. Cringe.
I don't even think I'm going to have time for that this week tho. I have rehearsal almost every night after work.
On the upside, I really want to save some money, and not having access to my account will certainly accomplish that. I mean, I came very close to making some purchases that would have spent as much as the thieves did today, but I reigned myself in.
Well, now. I feel all better. This is actually a good thing. I might just find my frugal side again.
And I realize, the biggest thing that makes me feel adrift is being by myself. If I had someone, a partner to be talking to about this, to reassure me, to make me laugh, and to depend on practically, this would all be a big ol' joyride.
Which brings me to what I really think; this is just the next lesson. Because I didn't even tell you about the platform nazi who semi-attacked me at rush hour today. He called me a Jew and everything. It was really clear that he was a bully. OK. Here's what happened. I'm on the platform, waiting for the A train. A really crowded one comes, and I have a huge bag with me cause I had my dad send my fur coat (which I got at a craft fair in 1985 for $50) because I might wear it in one of my shows, so I wait for the next one. It didn't come as quickly as I thought it would, so the platform filled up again. I'm standing near the elevator and this double carriage comes out and clips me on the leg. No biggy, the guy didn't see me, whatever. So when the train does come, I slither in front of this double baby carriage, which is now facing the train as the guy thinks he's gonna get on a rush hour train with this thing. Anyway, I'm waiting for the train to stop and unload and I feel a shove on my calves. I turn around and the guy is gesticulating at me. "Did you just shove me?!" I ask. He gesticulates about my slithering in front of his carriage. I shove the carriage back at him. "Don't shove me!"
He comes around the carriage like he's gonna hit me, with this creepy smile on his face. I just stand there. He goes, "Jew". I said, "What did you say?" He smiles and goes, "Yah". I yell something about derogatory terms, which I realize after wasn't what I meant, and also realize afterwards that he probably beats his little wife and enjoys it immensely, but I was on the train by then, far from the madding crowd, and completely aware that this moon phase has passed into it's waning phase and - Oh. Thanks Universe. This. is what's up. Awesome. And now the thing about the card.
But it really is all going to be ok. I mean, didn't someone post a picture of Jean-Luc in a "This is what a feminist looks like" T-shirt? Yah. Plus my waiter when I took myself out to dinner (and that's a perk right there; that I can do that) had a hispanic accent like the hispanic guy on That 70s Show. Made my night. Until the card thing.
Awwwwshiznit I'm gonna try and smile anyway
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