Every day, things happen. Some crazy and blog worthy. Others too ridiculous for a blog to handle. But every night when i get home, I have anywhere between 4 and 6 hours until I have to be up to get ready for my next day. So I never write about them.
However life is finally starting to calm down. and free time is inching its way back into my grasp.
The other night I wanted to write about something, but fell straight to bed when I got home. I was taking the train home from Manhattan. I had just finished another crazy night at the restaurant. No big shot celebrities this time, just lots and lots of wealthy patrons.
As I was waiting for the train there was nobody standing around me. Once the train rolled in, the doors stopped right in front of me. I picked a lucky spot to wait. All of a sudden, despite the fact that fate had generously put the doors in front of me, giving me premier access to the train, a tiny middle aged lady was trying to push me out of the way.
She wasn't physically pushing, but rather nudging me, trying to get her feet in front of mine. I was a little confused. There were obviously enough seats inside for everybody to sit down. Did she not see that? Hmm...why was she so eager to get inside?
I didn't want to reward rudeness, so I didn't move out of the way for this lady. I just stood my ground and waited for the doors to open, and the people to exit. As I took a step inside, the lady next to me quickly stepped in second. Once in the train, she darted in front of me to find a seat. Whatever, I let her. I took my time, moseyed inside, and scouted for the widest seat I could find. It happened to be right next to this lady.
Oh well, I thought. She seemed a little selfish, but that's no reason to avoid her. So I plopped right down. I wasn't looking at her but she seemed to be glaring at me, resenting my presence. Space was a bit tight, and it was inevitable that our bodies touched.
She would have none of that.
She constantly, for the next five minutes, bumped back and fourth, trying to give herself ample space. It seemed like she was trying to push me as far away as she could, so we wouldn't touch.
It started to piss me off. What was this lady's issue? Why was it so important for her to rush inside the train in front of me to take a seat. She wasn't elderly. Why was she so much more important than I? And now on the bench, why did she deserve so much more space than I?
The train kept crowding with people. Soon all the seats were gone and lots of bodies were crowding over us sitting passengers. It was your average New York mix. every race describable, huddled together in one train car. Characters ranging from drunk business men to quite thugs with their earphones in. The lady next to me kept pushing back and fourth, moving her shoulders, trying to open up space for herself. It got annoying very fast. I turned my head and looked over.
I saw that she had all of her belongings tightened grasped with one hand on her lap. The other hand was holding up her shirt against her nose, as if there was a bad smell.
There was nothing smelly.
She looked distressed, and nervous. My building anger instantly stopped elevating, and started declining. I felt bad. Without taking the time to look at her, I was only reacting to half of her actions. I was annoyed that she rushed in front of me into the train, annoyed that she tried to move away from me on the seat, and annoyed with the overall impression she was leaving with me.
But I don't think she was trying to be a bitch. I think she was not used to the subways, and she was nervous. New York subways can leave a pretty negative impression. I felt bad for judging. But I didn't know what to do. I wasn't rude to her so I couldn't apologize for anything.
It just got me thinking. Just because someone seems like they are being a bitch, doesn't actually make them a bitch. I'm sure if we had met under different circumstances, this lady would have been absolutely charming.
She got off at the station before me. Once she left I sat there, nobody around me. I felt like I had just lost a war with myself. I was disappointed in myself for letting something so minor bother me so much, just to realize that none of it was an attack on me. I was judgy. I hate being judgy. Being judgmental is such a negative concept. It's not me.
We all judge people, yes. Whether we like it or not instinct will always kick in and tell us things about our surroundings. My instincts told me that this lady was a selfish bitch, when she was probably just a nervous tourist.
We live and learn. It's fine. I can't help the judgments, but I can definitely work on controlling them!
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