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Words to Live By
Jun. 11th, 2011 10:43 amLast Sunday, I took a walk south on Harlem Avenue, which is a busy street near my house. I was on my way to the Jewel/Osco, and though there is a bus along that route I could have waited for, I figured hoofing it would be a better way to enjoy the nice weather, and to get some much-needed exercise. So I'm strolling along, and wound up crossing paths with a man who looked to be in his mid-forties. He struck me as a bit of a scrapper, with blond, flat-top hair, a bulldog face, and a large faded tattoo on one of his muscled biceps.
This man was waiting at one of the bus stops that line Harlem, and when I reached him he called out to me.
"Excuse me. Do you happen to know when the next PACE bus is coming by?"
I apologetically told him that I did not, but reassured him that buses ran north and south along Harlem fairly regularly, and that the next one should be along shortly.
He said, "Okay, cause I know I missed one that came right before I got off the Blue Line. The lady at the station said the next one would be 15 or so minutes but I waited there half an hour and there was nothing. I started walking instead -- I'm trying to get to 22nd Street -- but I had to stop. I got cancer and I was having trouble."
I felt bad for this poor man, and wished I could do something for him. I told him that if that much time had passed he shouldn't have to wait much longer before bus rolled by. Right at that moment, a north-bound bus appeared on the opposite side of the street.
I pointed at it. "That's a good sign," I said. "The bus schedule in both directions is pretty similar. I bet if you wait just a few more minutes you'll get your ride."
He thanked me and I wished him luck before continuing on my way. Sure enough, I had only gotten maybe another block or two before a south-bound bus appeared. As it passed, I looked through the door and saw the man standing in the stairwell chatting with the driver. It was a relief to know that I'd given him accurate information, and that he'd gotten the help that he needed.
Fast forward about 45 minutes. My arms were loaded with bags from my Jewel excursion, and I was walking the opposite end of Harlem, heading home. Halfway there I reach a bus stop, where I see the same man from earlier waiting. He was clutching a colorful bouquet of silk flowers, and wearing a cheerful smile. I was curious to hear how his excursion went, and my arms were tired from my load, so I stopped to chat for a minute.
The man nodded in greeting. "You were right, and the driver told me that buses only run every hour on the weekends."
"Bummer you have to wait so long," I said.
He shrugged. "I've had 30 surgeries in 9 years. Waiting for a bus is nothing."
"I'm sorry," I said. I was a little taken aback by this bit of over-sharing, but also impressed that he could be so nonchalant about it.
"Don't be sorry," He said. "So long as it doesn't go to my head or my sex organs, I'm okay. You gotta live your life like a joke, ya know?"
Before the conversation could continue, the bus arrived, and I decided to hop on along with the man just to see if I could overhear him speaking any other words of wisdom.
He didn't, but he did wish me a good day when reached my stop at Roosevelt, and I left the bus feeling grateful to have heard his perspective.
It was one of those things that was totally random, but also totally needed, you know? Kinda weird how sometimes you can get something a little life-changing out of mere moments in the same space with one particular person.
This man was waiting at one of the bus stops that line Harlem, and when I reached him he called out to me.
"Excuse me. Do you happen to know when the next PACE bus is coming by?"
I apologetically told him that I did not, but reassured him that buses ran north and south along Harlem fairly regularly, and that the next one should be along shortly.
He said, "Okay, cause I know I missed one that came right before I got off the Blue Line. The lady at the station said the next one would be 15 or so minutes but I waited there half an hour and there was nothing. I started walking instead -- I'm trying to get to 22nd Street -- but I had to stop. I got cancer and I was having trouble."
I felt bad for this poor man, and wished I could do something for him. I told him that if that much time had passed he shouldn't have to wait much longer before bus rolled by. Right at that moment, a north-bound bus appeared on the opposite side of the street.
I pointed at it. "That's a good sign," I said. "The bus schedule in both directions is pretty similar. I bet if you wait just a few more minutes you'll get your ride."
He thanked me and I wished him luck before continuing on my way. Sure enough, I had only gotten maybe another block or two before a south-bound bus appeared. As it passed, I looked through the door and saw the man standing in the stairwell chatting with the driver. It was a relief to know that I'd given him accurate information, and that he'd gotten the help that he needed.
Fast forward about 45 minutes. My arms were loaded with bags from my Jewel excursion, and I was walking the opposite end of Harlem, heading home. Halfway there I reach a bus stop, where I see the same man from earlier waiting. He was clutching a colorful bouquet of silk flowers, and wearing a cheerful smile. I was curious to hear how his excursion went, and my arms were tired from my load, so I stopped to chat for a minute.
The man nodded in greeting. "You were right, and the driver told me that buses only run every hour on the weekends."
"Bummer you have to wait so long," I said.
He shrugged. "I've had 30 surgeries in 9 years. Waiting for a bus is nothing."
"I'm sorry," I said. I was a little taken aback by this bit of over-sharing, but also impressed that he could be so nonchalant about it.
"Don't be sorry," He said. "So long as it doesn't go to my head or my sex organs, I'm okay. You gotta live your life like a joke, ya know?"
Before the conversation could continue, the bus arrived, and I decided to hop on along with the man just to see if I could overhear him speaking any other words of wisdom.
He didn't, but he did wish me a good day when reached my stop at Roosevelt, and I left the bus feeling grateful to have heard his perspective.
It was one of those things that was totally random, but also totally needed, you know? Kinda weird how sometimes you can get something a little life-changing out of mere moments in the same space with one particular person.
