I wonder sometimes if I did a bad thing, going off and and
getting close to so many people and places. Was it healthy? I feel older. All along, I
had only looked forward for the better stuff that I knew was to come, and
suddenly I’m looking over my shoulder trying to touch the recent past. I have
these intense memories that hurt my chest in a good way, and make my throat
hurt and tears well up in my eyes. I would relive all of it, the happiness and
the pain, if it meant I could just be at those coordinates of time and space
again, with those people. I feel so sad, but so lucky that I've lived a life worth
crying over.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Friday, November 8, 2013
Two incidents
Incident #1:
I was driving home from work and pulled up to a red traffic light at a major intersection. I saw two men standing on the sidewalk, one clearly younger than the other. They looked like brothers, though I am not sure. They were holding up signs, with thick black letters drawn in permanent marker on cardboard. I could only see the younger man's sign, which read:
Incident #2:
I was at the cheap gas station, where I go out of my way to fill up every two weeks, to save a couple of dollars. But don't worry, I have a degree in economics, which I use to mentally calculate the price point at which the extra driving will negate the savings.
A white man, maybe in his late 30s, wearing black shorts and a black t-shirt with long dark blond hair, beard and very dirty fingernails, approached me as I was coming out after paying $40 cash. He did not smell too great.
"Excuse me, sweetheart. I hate to bother you, but do you happen to have a couple of bucks on you? I left my wallet at home and I am all out of gas. I just need enough for a couple of miles."
I said, "I am so sorry, I just used all my money at the register."
I returned to my car and flipped on the nozzle, watching as the numbers increased. I think my car did it on purpose: the tank was full and I had to go inside to collect $2.75. I came back out, and the man was still standing there. Without thinking, I walked up to him and handed over my change--my carefully calculated savings--dropping a couple of coins in my haste.
"God bless you, sweetheart!" He went to his car, where his equally grubby friend was waiting, and they began talking excitedly. His car was a shiny, brand new, black Mercedes-Benz, and I began to wonder if it was really his.
I don't know why I give money to people who are so damn suspect...but it takes guts to gamble with your dignity like that. And sometimes I just believe them.
I was driving home from work and pulled up to a red traffic light at a major intersection. I saw two men standing on the sidewalk, one clearly younger than the other. They looked like brothers, though I am not sure. They were holding up signs, with thick black letters drawn in permanent marker on cardboard. I could only see the younger man's sign, which read:
HELP BURY MOMI waved him over to my car, rolled down the window and passed him a five-dollar bill and said, "I'm really sorry." The light turned green, he hurried back to the sidewalk, and I drove home.
Incident #2:
I was at the cheap gas station, where I go out of my way to fill up every two weeks, to save a couple of dollars. But don't worry, I have a degree in economics, which I use to mentally calculate the price point at which the extra driving will negate the savings.
A white man, maybe in his late 30s, wearing black shorts and a black t-shirt with long dark blond hair, beard and very dirty fingernails, approached me as I was coming out after paying $40 cash. He did not smell too great.
"Excuse me, sweetheart. I hate to bother you, but do you happen to have a couple of bucks on you? I left my wallet at home and I am all out of gas. I just need enough for a couple of miles."
I said, "I am so sorry, I just used all my money at the register."
I returned to my car and flipped on the nozzle, watching as the numbers increased. I think my car did it on purpose: the tank was full and I had to go inside to collect $2.75. I came back out, and the man was still standing there. Without thinking, I walked up to him and handed over my change--my carefully calculated savings--dropping a couple of coins in my haste.
"God bless you, sweetheart!" He went to his car, where his equally grubby friend was waiting, and they began talking excitedly. His car was a shiny, brand new, black Mercedes-Benz, and I began to wonder if it was really his.
I don't know why I give money to people who are so damn suspect...but it takes guts to gamble with your dignity like that. And sometimes I just believe them.
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