He's Making A List...

Yesterday, I worked with a group of three students. Two were very excited for the Christmas holiday while one was not. The unhappy student had gotten in trouble earlier in the day, and that negatively affected his feelings toward the holidays for the rest of the afternoon.

Every time the first two students exuberantly declared their love for Christmas, the third student attempted to thwart their enthusiasm. I intervened, of course, but it didn’t really change his attitude. I thought nothing would change his mindset until one of the other students offered his opinion.

“You know, maybe Santa checked his list twice and you weren’t on it. Maybe when he checked his list he found out you’re naughty, not nice,” he said in a matter-of-a-fact tone. “You should be better next year.”

Then he paused to let the unhappy student digest this information.

“Yup, I think I’m right. You’ve been naughty,” he concluded.

Here’s to hoping everyone has been nice, not naughty, this year.

Bad Timing

Apparently, having weird experiences on public transportation is a reoccurring theme for me this month.

On Thursday night, I took the train to Queens to meet Ben and friends.  I luckily found a spot to sit on the crowded train.  I wedged myself between two people and started to relax until I noticed the girl sitting across the aisle looked pretty woozy and pale.  Uh oh.

I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable about not feeling well, but I decided to “monitor” her.  I needed to know when to bolt if she was going to get sick and possibly projectile vomit across the car. 

I turned my head for two minutes, and when I looked back my eyes almost popped out of my head.  The girl sat with her eyes closed and a hand over her mouth as vomit dribbled through her fingers!

YUCK.

As soon as I saw her I almost got sick.  

Unfortunately, she threw up just as the subway doors closed.  She had to sit like that until we reached the next subway stop, which was about three to four minutes away.  She stood and stumbled across the car as soon as we the train began to slow down and we neared the stop.  She stepped over a man’s legs and when the doors opened she leaned outside and released everything.

SIIIIIIIIIIIICK.

I was weirdly grossed out and fascinated by the whole experience for two reasons.  One, she experienced one of my worst fears – to get sick while on public transportation.  And, two, not a single person (with the exception of me) even blinked.  Everyone acted normal.  No one seemed phased by the situation at all. 

New Yorkers really are immune to everything (err… except the flu).  

Bus Ride

On Thursday afternoon, I proved to myself once again how tough I’ve become since moving New York.  I sat on the bus and read a magazine while listening to music.  I felt a bodily presence beside me, but paid it no mind.  A minute later, I realized that that the body was also speaking to me.  I looked up to see a disheveled and very inebriated man with a cigarette wedged between his lips.  He repeatedly mumbled incoherent sentences and one understandable one, “Miss, will you zip my jacket?”  I replied, “No, thanks.”  He asked again and shoved his zipper toward me.  I replied again, “No, thanks.”

 

After several requests he became frustrated and yelled in clear, perfect English, “Thanks a lot you worthless $*%& $*%&#.”  The front of the bus turned my way and heads rolled to watch the scene unfold.  I sat motionless for a few seconds.  I then slowly replaced my headphones and returned to my magazine, mostly annoyed to have been interrupted for no reason.

The man couldn’t speak to me in complete sentences at a normal voice volume without an audience, but he had NO difficulty yelling profanities at me in front of a crowd.  Interesting.

The old me, the freshly scrubbed straight-off-the-plane me, would have taken his insult to heart.  I would have fought back tears and harbored hurt feelings.  I would have wondered what I did to deserve such treatment. 

But, the new me?  Oh, no, no, no.  I barely blinked, didn’t even flinch.  I chuckle at the new me and just how New York street tough I’ve become.

New Coat

I broke down and bought a long winter coat.  Long like it hangs down to my calves and has big furry trim around the hood.  It’s my Christmas present.

NYC gets so cold in the winter.  The temperature drops, and I still spend the same amount of time outside.  I am always walking a couple of blocks here, a couple of blocks there.  Waiting for the bus here, catching a taxi there.  I spend quite a bit of time in the blustery outdoors.

That’s why I got a long coat.  Of course, I opted for the version that is stylish as well as warm.  It fits like a shapely sleeping bag that's been upgraded with a fur trimmed hood.

I never understand Ben.  He wears a flimsy, waist length wool coat all winter.  If it’s really cold, he’ll add a scarf, hat, and gloves.  Otherwise, a wool coat is it.  I wear a wool coat in October and then switch to a thigh length down parka in November, which I will now exchange for a calf length down parka for the rest of the winter.  (This is in addition to the long johns I wear under my jeans.)

Somewhere I lack the same internal heat source that keeps Ben warm.  But, we’ll see this winter.  Maybe my comfy, wearable sleeping bag will persuade him to the warmer side.