Friday, October 30, 2009

Did You Notice?

Today began when I turned on the bathroom light in the morning and in the corner of my eye, I detected something unusual, which turned out to be a spider crawling up the wall. I don’t fear spiders, nor do I kill them. I respect them. They are so intricate and delicate and purposeful. I watched my spider for a few seconds and immediately decided to make today one of those days when I would take notice of the people and things around me. It happened to be a good day for that, not only because it was the day before Halloween, but also, if you happen to work in New York City, there’s a lot to observe any day of the week. I also had to be particularly aware today because it was one of those “schlep” days when I’m trying to manage my cargo without getting in anyone’s way. I’ve been having trouble with my shoulder lately (it’s clicking), so I’ve become dependent on this rolling briefcase, which is supposed to be a convenience when you have a lot to carry. The invention of the wheel replicates itself constantly in the creation of more and more things with wheels. When there’s an expedient way to make your life easier- leave it to someone to put it on wheels. Rolling things, though, do not necessarily guarantee ease, especially when you have to take them on the subway. Especially when you have to stop, push down the telescoping handle and then find and grasp the other handles right before you are going down the long, threatening subway stairs. There’s always someone rushing behind you who gets annoyed that you blocked his or her path and they grunt or cluck their tongue and you feel an immediate urge to “accidently” trip and bang the rolling bag into this person’s shin. But then you realize that it was a stupid idea to buy a cup of coffee because how in the hell are you going to hold onto the railing while carrying the bag that is too heavy to begin with, which is why it has wheels in the first place, and balance the cup of coffee in your free hand? Then, after you breathe a sigh of relief because miraculously you didn’t fall down the stairs and the coffee is still in the cup and you can now roll the bag, you encounter the turnstile and realize that the rolling bag barely fits sideways. Your bag doesn’t have the new, improved wheels that pivot, therefore, cannot be rolled under, so, you have to kick it beneath making sure the telescoping handle doesn’t get stuck on the bars while sliding your metro card through and praying the turnstile doesn’t read “Swipe the card again” four times before it lets you in. You do all this while trying to look graceful and then you start to mutter to yourself and not only do you look far from graceful, you look insane, as well. Today, though, it was a good day because I got a seat on the train and was able to drink my coffee while trying, nonchalantly, to do my people watching. I love to do people watching on the train. I sit there and try to figure out what kind of job each person has and what kind of life each person has. Are they happy? Are they miserable, bored, frustrated? There was this older woman who was in a deep sleep across from me. Nothing could disturb her. I wondered if she was dreaming. Then a girl walked on the train in a sailor suit, with hat and all; that’s when I realized it was the day before Halloween. I was able to finish my coffee by the time I got to my stop and was planning my exit as carefully as possible, without rolling over anyone’s toes or tripping someone who had the audacity to try to walk around me while I’m rolling my bag. And just when I thought that the encounter with the turnstile was a challenge, I get to the apparatus to exit the train station that has those open bars but works like a revolving door. Whoever invented that thing has a good laugh every night, I’m sure of it. I try, very gingerly, to put my bag inside this contraption while I slowly push my way out. And of course after I carry my bag up another long flight of subway stairs, about ready to have a heart attack, there’s another revolving door into my office building and yet another turnstile that I have to dig out my security card for while rolling the bag under, trying again, not to get the handle caught in the bars of this turnstile. I feel as if I just had a morning of basic training with the Marine corp through the obstacle course of revolving doors, turnstiles and stairs. By this time I’m winded and exasperated and when I get into the elevator, I notice everyone in there with me is not smiling. “Cheer up everybody.” I say, still slightly out of breath, “It’s Friday. And I managed to get me and my rolling bag all the way to work without killing myself or anyone else.” They probably thought I was crazy. But, what the hell, I’ll almost certainly never see them again, or if I do, they most likely won’t notice me.

That’s the way it is in this city. Most of the time we are oblivious to everything and everyone who’s around us. No one smiles or says good morning. And usually, when someone says, “Have a nice day,” it’s like a parrot repeating words that mean nothing to it. But today I tried to take notice of everyone and everything- the nervous guy, smoking while talking loudly on his cell phone, the homeless man who had no shoe on his left foot, the girl with the grey and black patent leather shoes, the woman walking her dog. They were all around, sharing my space, but hardly bothering to acknowledge anyone else’s existence.

In honor of my “take notice” day and in honor of Friday, I made sure to go out to lunch with my friends from work. We went to my favorite pizza place on Stone Street that has at least a twenty-minute wait on Fridays. We enjoyed a long lunch of pizza with fried eggplant topping while talking about life and death and love and marriage and not about work. There was one slice of pizza left over and I had the waiter wrap it up because I didn’t want it to go to waste. As we walked back to the office on the charming cobble stone street, still talking, I spotted something white, very white, right in the middle of Broad Street in lower Manhattan. “Is that a Halloween costume or a real bride?” one of my friends remarked. “It is a bride,” I responded. There she was, running across the street, with her two bridesmaids, right behind her, dressed in black, holding up her train as they dashed to the limo waiting on the side. I think we were the only ones who really saw them. It made me smile. It made me think of happy things.

I gave the extra slice of pizza to Calvin when we got back to the office. Calvin is that one person in the office who always takes the time to say "Good morning, how are you today?" with real sincerity. “This is for you,” I said, “because I love you and I know how hard you work.” I wanted him to know I notice that.

On my trip home, rolling my bag back through the turnstiles and revolving doors took less patience and attention; however, it was much easier without the cup of coffee. A girl was on the Long Island Railroad dressed as the vampire, Alice, from “Twilight” with fake blood smeared on her chin. Only a couple of people noticed, though. My husband picked me up at the train station and when we got home, he saw me struggling to lift the bag out of the car. “Here, let me take that for you.”

“Where were you all day?” I replied, but thought, “Finally, someone noticed..me.”















No comments: