So, apparently when it rains or even acts like it will rain,
the female population in New York all have and wear rain boots. I don’t like
conforming to trends and fads, but it does make sense. It rains, who wants to
walk around with wet shoes, socks or feet. They have cute rain boots, designed
for the women of all ages and I think I may just get a pair. Just saying! The
problem is, I wear a size 11 in women, those cute little rain boots for women
with smaller feet will look like Noah’s ark on mine. I’ll have to think about
this and shop around.
Well, my week ended with a bang and I do mean it was a hot Diggity
mess and most of it happened all before 9:00 AM in the morning. I hadn’t even
arrived to work just yet. SMH
While I was on the train, a young woman boarded with her son
in a stroller. He was wild, crying and trying to get out of the stroller on the
crowded, and I mean butt-to-butt crowded train. The boy is definitely not happy,
yelling and squirming in the stroller. His older sister I assume, (no more than
7 years old - herself) was trying to calm him down. The mother wouldn't hold on
to any railing, not that any were available, but went flying everytime the train
took off again. I'm like, seriously you just hit five people when you were
thrown around for the third time, don't you think you want to hold on to
something. I'm just saying. She then says to the little boy, "Oh, I know
why you're crying...I know what you want." I'm thinking to myself, well,
thank God somebody does. Thanks Lord for giving her the epiphany, so he can be
quiet. She starts digging through the bag and the little girl says, what does
he want. The mom says, "I don't know". I am now mentally shaking my
head, because I really wanted her to know what he wanted. She is still digging
through the bag and then pulls out a toy phone. I was like great! Maybe he'll
like that.The little boy takes the phone, examines it, puts it to his ear and
throws it at the train door. The mom curses and the little girl picks up the
phone. The boy starts crying again and then the mom digs in the purse again.
I'm getting excited, because I'm thinking, this one may be a winner! She pulls
out gimp (which is a colorful plastic string that you can intertwine and make
various things with - like friendship bracelets or key chain decorations). I'm
standing next to the mom, getting excited about the gimp, because the plastic
string is mangled and the boy may have a hard time trying to figure it out, so
this is good. I'm thinking - go mom. Then, she starts playing with it herself.
I was like, wait a minute. Like, the Kevin Hart, "wait a minute, wait a
minute. You aren't just going to rush past that like you didn't just do
that". She gets off at the next stop - Bam - that's over.
A guy gets on the train and he has on tinted glasses,
creased jeans (really), a nice shirt and wearing a long dark blazer. He looked
nice, but like he knew he looked nice. He was probably in his 40's, had a nice
fresh cut and oil to make his low cut shine a little. It was not greasy, but
enough to let you know that he knew how to take care of his hair. His cologne
met you at the crowded train doors, but it was nice cologne. Not going to
complain, with all the smells on the wet, sweaty, funky train. The guy, let's call
him Mr. GQ, has a good build, like a football player - broad chest - not like a
linebacker, but maybe a quarterback. Mr. GQ has his iPhone headphones in his
ears and please remember, we are tight on this train. He starts to bob his head to the music, that I
can hear from an arm length away. I understand this, because if I'm feeling the
beat, I'll probably bob my head, but unlike this guy - I'll bob my head and
then act like it's the train making my head bob, not the music. I digress. Mr.
GQ starts bobbing his head, while holding on with one hand on the pole that five
other people including myself are holding on to as well. The music must have
gotten good to him, because he starts to dip a little and bounced back up, like
maybe they were playing the remix. I thought maybe I was seeing things. It
could have been the train causing him to dip. Well, old boy, put two hands onto
the pole and starts to sway, dip and bob after a while. It took everything in
me not to laugh out loud, because inside my head I was screaming. Tears began
to form in my eyes, because I just could not believe I was seeing this. Everybody
else on the train is ignoring this and the other four people that were holding onto the pole looked another way. One
lady moved to another pole, because she probably thought that if he did not
have people on both sides of him, he would have swung around that pole. SMH. I
mean, I don't care if you were a stripper in your former day, or current, but
at 8:30 in the morning is not the time to practice on a crowded train. At one
point, he extended his elbows, had both hands on the pole and was leaning back
like he was about to straddle the pole. I took this as my opportunity to exit,
exit stage left. I wanted no parts of that and saw enough. It was my stop
anyway and on to the next adventure.
I walk up the train station and started to walk towards my
job and behind me, I hear a man's gruff voice say, "I'm going to knock you
on your f**ing face". I keep my walking pace, because I think a few
things,
1. He's
not talking to me
2. He
could be playing
3. And
he's not talking to me
Then I see a man and a boy walk briskly past me and I
assumed they were late for school. The man was walking so fast and the boy
basically had to run to catch up with him. The little boy was probably around 11
years old, skinny and had on dark pants and a light blue shirt, which I assumed
to be his uniform. The man was probably a little shorter than me, maybe 5'6
with a medium build. I start to change the music on my phone and then I see the
man grip the boy up between the cars and smack him upside the head. I didn't
hear what he said, but I decided I needed to take off my headphones at this
point. I did a little, electric slide move, kept my pace and kept walking. The
man still had the boy gripped up between the cars and the boy yelled/spit in
his face and called him a "B*(ch)". It was with so much force, I was
like," ut oh, it's about to go down." I've seen chastisement's of
kids, but I have rarely seen a child buck back and live to tell the story (well
at least with no busted lips). The man let the boy go and started walking
across the street and I mean fast, like he was trying to keep from killing the
boy. The boy proceeds to pick up rocks and start throwing them at his head. I started shaking my head and checked my phone
for the time, before I put it back in my purse. As long as they were on the other
side of the street, I was cool. I look up and this curly head lady is
looking at me with her mouth open. I looked at her, as if to say - crazy right? She starts shaking her head, like she is in agreement. Then she says, you're
calling the cops, right? I then close my mouth and say, "no". She said,
"Well someone should, because I'm scared for him". I said, "who
the father". She said, "no, the boy. He's been abusing him all the
way from the train". I look at her think, "what do you call
abuse?". But, that wasn't the time to debate that argument. So, I stopped
with her and pointed out to her what was happening at that moment. I said,
"Look, the boy is currently following the man and throwing rocks at his head".
I'm not too concerned. So, she looks near tears and is like, "but I'm
scared for when he goes home". I shake my head and said, "Okay, I'll
walk behind them for a block, which is out of my way, and see if anything
happens". She was walking beside me and then she is like, "someone
needs to call the cops." I said, "it looks like they are going to
school". She says"no, I work at the school, which is right there, so
they can't be going to school". I
didn't bother to tell her I worked at the same school (multiple schools in one
building) or that there was more than one school in the area. So, I reluctantly
pulled out my phone and said, "fine". I call 911 and tell them what I
saw and used the words the lady told me - abuse. The cop says, "what do
you mean abuse". I thought, that is what I thought. So, I told her what I saw
and I turned around to ask the lady what she saw, because I didn't see what I would classify as "abuse".
I saw the father grip the boy up. Where I come from, that's not abuse. Now if we were in another setting, like a school - that would be a different story and would invoke a different response. Anyway, I turn to ask the lady what she saw and I don't see her. One
second she is on my heels, crying call the cops and the next second she is
gone. I turn and look in the stores, this chick is in DUNKIN' DONUTS standing in
LINE.
Ain't this about a ....something... I just looked like, Really. I told the cop - "I just wanted to let
you know." Ugh, calling the cops was a moot point, because the man and boy were long gone at the rate that man was walking. I
don't know who I was more mad at - the lady or myself. I know - good and well one
of the cardinal rules in the city - DMX said it best, "Mind your business,
lady! Nosy people get it too." I hung
up the phone and shook my head, like you should have stuck to your guns and let
that lady call the cops. I'm not the only person in New York City with a cell
phone...if you're so worried pull out your cell phone. I wasn't worried and if I would have truly thought that the boy or man was in danger, I would have not hesitated to call the cops or intervened myself (I know, but my instincts would have kicked in - it has happened before and against my better judgement). This was truly, not that type of situation and one you had to be there for, as were the fifty other people walking down the street. Once that little boy called that man a B, started throwing rocks at him and
FOLLOWING him - he was putting himself in a situation to catch
whatever was coming to him. If he was so in danger, I doubt he would have been following him. I glared at the Dunkin
Donuts, rolled my eyes, and continued my journey to work.
I turn the corner to my job and I see a man using the
umbrella stick poking at something in a steel, rusty barrel. There is a woman
standing there, looking horrified with her mouth wide open. I ask, "what's
up". The guy is making the ugly face, trying to pull the barrel down
horizontally and grunts the entire time. The woman says, "it's a
rat". I quickly start picking up the pace to get to the front doors of the
school. "I ain't got time for that." The man that was poking at the thing clarified
and said, "It's a dead rat". I said, "oh" and stopped my
light jog. There was a tall man, maybe 6'4 or so, strutting down the street at
the slowest pace I've seen people walking in the rain, not deterred by the rat
or anyone, had his umbrella up and said, "That ain't nothing new honey,
that happens all the time" and kept on strutting. I just laughed and
quickly walked in the building and shut the door.
I make it to my community table and put everything down,
plop down and give a sigh of relief. Away from all that nonsense. The janitor
comes up asks the lady at the front desk, where is it. She says, "it's in
the pitcher". I ask, "what's
in the pitcher? Where is the pitcher"? She points and I turn to see a
mouse jumping up and down within a pitcher trying to escape. I just sat down,
shook my head and say, all of this before 9AM.
Never a dull moment in New York!
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