Sunday, September 11, 2011

Random Acts of Kindness

In honor of the 10th anniversary of 9/11, I decided to participate in Random Acts of Kindness Day. I kept a friend from buying yarn; I held doors; I smiled a lot; I chit chatted with my cab driver and gave him a very nice tip; I even (wait for it) told a man at Five Guys that he had delightful children.

So I'm on my way home and I'm sitting outside Huntington Metro because my knee is rather screaming at me (two hours in a very uncomfy chair) and because there's no rush to get home and I'm enjoying the weather. A young Indian woman comes up and sits next to me and asks if she can borrow my phone. I'm engaging in RAOK, so I hand the phone over and she makes her calls.

I'm still enjoying the breeze and the day and I'm feeling really good emotionally, so I start to chit chat with her and she asks about why I'm sitting there and I tell her that my knee hurts, so I'm sitting for a bit. Yeah, mistake. Big mistake.

Her response: "You're very fat. Is that why you have trouble walking?"

Let me get this straight. I hand over my phone and let you use it, so now you think it's okay to be too rude for words and insult me. I told her I had arthritis and then she decided to fix my diet. I got up and started walking home.

And then we come to either a RAOK or a kidnap attempt. I'd like to think it was a RAOK, so that's how I'm going to look at it.

I'm limping down the hill (really, screaming knee) and this Honda CR-V pulls up beside me and the young man (probably in his 20s) asks if he can drop me anywhere. Now, I appreciate the thought. Really. But anyone who thinks I'm getting in a car with a stranger is stark raving insane. And as I watched him drive down the hill, I just hoped that he wasn't one of the guys from upstairs who I hadn't recognized. Since he didn't turn into the complex, I'm thinking I'm okay.

Howcver, all in all, the rude woman was my only speed bump. And if I only have one speed bump today, I think I'm doing well.

 Off to make some tuna noodle casserole!!!

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Don't touch me!!

The day of the earthquake, I had the joy of hearing someone complain that the pregnant woman took forever to get down the stairs at work. Today, I have my own pregnant woman complaint.

In the grand tradition of Metro, the middle escalator going to the south entrance of Huntington Metro was out, so they had one escalator heading down (the mini one on the left as you're looking at the escalators) and the other mini escalator was turned off. Yeah, if you couldn't walk up the escalator, you had to wait for the incredibly slow elevator. One person suggested that they should have turned the escalator heading down in the opposite direction, but that wouldn't have worked. Knowing people and their incredible talent for being inconsiderate, if one of the mini escalators had been heading up and the other was turned off, you'd have had people like me on the moving escalator and people on the unmoving escalator who either wanted to walk or were too impatient to wait and people trying to get onto the train would have been out of luck unless they wanted to wait for the elevator, so I really do understand why they did things the way that they did.

So, yes, I waited for the elevator (which is partially why I'm still awake at 2:15 a.m. because my knees are screaming at me). Yes, four extra strength tylenol pm, four aleve, six salonpas patches, and my usual Parkinson's meds and my knees are still screaming at me.

There were too many people in line ahead of me on the first trip for me to make it onto the elevator, which is what I expected, so I had to wait for the second trip. By the way, that elevator redefines slow. Even I could have walked up the escalator in the time it took for that elevator to arrive. But if I hadn't waited, I wouldn't have my rude pregnant woman story.

Standing in line were three metro workers (one of whom ended up walking up the escalator) and their cargo -- a money cart. We got onto the elevator and then they decided to see if they could get the cargo onto the elevator. We crowded onto one side, then one metro worker got on, the money cart was pushed on, the second metro worker got on, and then decided that we had room for the third metro worker, which, honestly we did.

Except, oh wait, we had a pregnant woman on board. And I'm betting you think you know where this story is going, but you're wrong.

The second metro worker on the elevator asked if we could squeeze in a bit so the third metro worker could get onto the elevator so a couple of us scooted where we could so that we would have room.

Except the woman behind me says, "No, don't squeeze me! ! I'm pregnant!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

In fact, she was so pregnant that if she hadn't pronounced it to the world in a state of "Oh, my god, strange people will touch me," I wouldn't have noticed because she wasn't that pregnant. I'm telling you, I had to look down twice after we got off the elevator to figure out that she did, in fact,  have a teensy little pooch. Because, yeah, not big enough to even be called a baby bump. Honestly, you need to play the card when you need to play the card because you will end up with people like me looking at you at some point and informing you that pregnancy is  not a disability and you should suck it up. And then you have people like MSB who should have been playing the card and wasn't and is now in the hospital on bed rest waiting for her babies to be born.

No, I didn't say a word; the filter was on.

Oh, and for those who noticed, no, I don't have Parkinson's. I have restless legs, but the meds are the same.