average morning, walking to the g train.

There are New York mornings when you can traverse miles and miles, on foot and by train, and not talk to a single person. Surrounded by the multitudes equally unimpressed by the brand new day, you just blend in and play background. Its ok, because you haven't had your morning coffee yet and to have to speak would probably pull a muscle. This morning however several people spoke to me, no matter that they were conversations so mundane that when I list them here you'll be angry you read this far.

Not 3 feet from my door a Park Slope Mom was getting ready to take her child to school. She was asking her what she would like to eat...cheese stick? Graham crackers? An apple? The child who did not like her choices and was probably waiting for her perfect size 4 mom to offer up a marshmallow, did not reply. I wanted to scream at her: don't give the child a choice! TELL her, here's your apple. Eat it. Anyway, that was only somewhat of a digression because no one spoke to me, but it does illustrate why my "ire" level had been raised.

Soon enough though, I would be disarmed by the kindness of strangers. Shortly after that exchange, I stopped into my local bakery and got myself a morning coffee. As I reached over another costumer to get milk then the simple syrup I simmered with a silent rage...the other customer was quietly measuring out her splenda packet into her coffee. Exactly half a pack. As I attempted to roll my eyes to myself, without prompting, she handed me a lid and a straw. Exactly what I needed to get on my way and start my day. Such a nice thing to do. We exchanged a few nicey nices and I was on my way. A block from the cafe, a couple stopped me and handed me my jacket that I hadn't noticed i had dropped a few feet away. Thanks, I said. They both smiled, your welcome. Small, yes, but I felt like something had shifted in the universe. 3 pleasant people in a row.

random picture of my mom walking down Park Place, towards 5th Avenue

Now it was my turn, a man looking bewildered on the corner of where about 8 streets converege. Flatbush, Atlantic, Dean, Pacific, 5th Ave, who knows what else. Which way is 4th he asked and I answered, helpfully. It had all come full circle. New York had made me mad then softened me up, and then I gave my share of goodness. All this before I even got on the subway. On the way to work I pondered all this and smiled quietly to myself. I am a part of all this. And that guys would be lost with out me and that jacket would be lost with out that couple and that coffee would have spilled had that lady not though for me in the blue sky bakery.

I'm pretty sure that mom was useless though. Also fairly certain that the kid is gonna grow up to be a dick.