Someone please reassure me that I'm not the only one who has made a karmic blunder in the past 36 hours.
Yesterday morning, I was sitting next to this old, toothless man on the bus. I was discreetly checking out his linen coat and engaging in one of my favorite public transit pastimes, "Destitute, Drunk, or Just Damn Old?" when suddenly he turned and asked me, "excuse me, Miss, is there a McDonalds for something to eat?"
Now, something you probably don't know about me is that I've been on a mission for the past four years to single-handedly disprove Boston's reputation as the rudest, most unfriendly city in America. You might think I'm kidding, but there is an actual subset of people who get off on perpetuating the Chowdahead sterotype. To put it into perspective for you, a guy who looked like Christian Bale in The Fighter and sounded like Leo in The Departed once tried to score a date with me by informing me that his plans for the evening included, "standing on the Common and giving tourists wrong directions." Say what?! Obviously, that was a bust... and it's also why I never, ever accuse my single friends in this city of being "too picky," because ain't no whacko like a Townie whacko, and this town is full of them (and their polar opposites, the dreaded Yeah, Dudes).
But I digress.
Anyway, I was pumped for a chance to improve my cosmic lot by trying to help this hungry man out in his quest for a McMuffin. So, with a little bit more enthusiasm than I was going for, I casually squealed, "Sure, there's one at the Galleria!" in his ear. Imagine my surprise when he looked at me like I was scum on the bottom of his shoe, muttered something to himself, and moved away into the next seat over from me! WTF?! Seriously, dude? I was just trying to be helpful, which is no small feat at 7:45am on the dawn of a Stanley Cup Game 7 when my nerves are already a template for hypertension.
I sat there, puzzled, until another cute little admin-type came and squeezed her perfect little Banana-clad tush into the seat between me and Captain Hobo, and I heard him asking her for breakfast recommendations.
Not going to lie; I was mildly offended. What, were my navigational skillz not good enough?! As I sat there, huffily glaring at him and Ms. Perky Pants out of the corner of my eye, the girl shook her perfect mane in his general direction and sneered.
And then I realized that I'm not directionally challenged; I'm just a mildly hard of hearing jackass. Sir Ear Hair asked me for a DOLLAR, not a McDonalds!
For a nanosecond, I almost felt bad enough for getting his hopes up about the possibility of future riches that I contemplated giving him the wrinkly five bucks I had stashed somewhere in the bottom of my purse. And then I remembered his look of disgust and decided he could find his own damn way to get buzzy for the Bs game.
I'm going to hell.
You're not going to hell. It's not your responsibility to finance his life. I feel bad for people like that, but I figure if he got the fare for the T, he's doing alright. For that hour anyway.
ReplyDeleteBoston locals are generally d-bags, so props to you for trying to be friendly, and seriously, I wouldn't feel bad. If he was riding the T, he probs had some cash.
ReplyDeleteI had to stop by after seeing your comment on MelissaNibbles and love your blog. reading this post really makes me miss riding the public transportation. The best we had was some dude who always barked on the bus....yes like a dog. Then another dude who stuffed 20 oz. pepsi bottles down his pants (in an attempt to make his package look bigger? who knows)
ReplyDeleteI'm toying with the idea of coming to Boston this summer for a few days but I will probably run into Christian Bale look alike and then get lost. At least I can stare right?