You tell him!
by SG
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Silly story -- but a wonderful moment on the train today.
Today, the second day after the first frost, I was on my way to 72nd St. on uptowon C train.
Early afternoon.
There was an elderly gentleman sitting across the car from me. We were both minding our own business with the distanced subway detachment that settles in. At Columbus Circle, a stout 'good fella' looking man with a bulging garment bag entered the car. As he turned to find a seat, I noticed there was a -- no joke -- used, wadded up rope of toilet paper hanging down over his belt and down his backside over his clothes.
I noticed the elderly gentleman crack a smile and politely try not to laugh. I caught his eye and gave him a look as if to say "how awful for him." We communicated with facial expressions until the train arrived at 72nd St. As I was leaving the car the old man said, "You tell him..." and started to laugh.
I thought this story was worth sharing because of
(1) the ridiculousness of the poor TP man's situation -- who hasn't had some God awful thing wrong with their appearance that no one knew how to tell you about -- and then when you learned of it, you felt like crawling into a hole? and,
(2) the absolute transformation in the elderly man's face when he realized that I had seen what he had seen and we both couldn't come up with a way to tell TP man. This wonderful glimpse of the old man's heart and sense of humor -- the softening of his features and hearing him actually address me -- is one of the things I love about New Yorkers.
They can be crusty -- but underneath people have hearts of gold. The subway facade -- the haze I go into -- while being very much aware of what is going on around me -- fascinates me. It was funny that the old man and I both popped out of it today with the arrival of TP man on the train.
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