Shades of Whatever

NOTABLE HUMAN INTERACTIONS OF THE PAST 36 HOURS

Hi

I’m on the blue line on my way to work. It’s packed shoulder-to-shoulder when the girl next to me slinks to her knees in the aisle and starts shaking. Everyone exchanges “What the hell do we do now” looks. I get down there with her and see tears streaming down her face, but she’s not making a sound. I ask her if she needs help and when she says yes, I look for the person closest to the “help” button and immediately slip into my dad’s south side gutter accent that only escapes my mouth when I’m really drunk or during times of duress. “YO BLUE LIGHT, PUSH DA BUTTON.” I hold her hand until we get to the next stop, at which point she whispers that she would like to get off at that stop. She runs off the train.

I take a walk through the financial district during lunch. Some gargantuan man, a 6’5 Alan Tudyk lookalike trader type, is shouting a Valentine’s Day flower order into his phone outside the Board of Trade. His gutter accent is worse than mine. “YEH WHAT COLORCE ARE DEY? SPRING COLORCE? OH. SO DERE LIKE EH, DA PINK ANT RED KIND? DAMMIT. OKAY. OKAY DANK YOU.” There’s a floral shop right around the corner with a huge display of lavender roses. Sucker.

Two attractive, well-dressed men are walking down Jackson. One has a blind man’s walking cane, and he shouts at the guy next to him, “I DON’T KNOW, I’M NOT BLIND. YOU TELL ME.”

I witness a group of teenagers loudly threatening a twentysomething gay hipster on the bus. Soon everyone’s yelling at everyone else. I join the fray without any real provocation. It’s a really unpleasant, unattractive scene. It does allow me to get bodychecked nearly into the lap of a Balthazar Getty lookalike, which doesn’t suck. As soon as I realize I’m instinctively starting to take off my rings, the cops come. The kids scatter. Balthazar Getty asks the shaken target of the threats if he would feel safer being walked home. 

I get an email asking for some horticultural help. I snort-laugh because the email is a photo of sad-looking succulents with the caption “He’s just resting his eyes… he’s just.. HE’S FUCKING SLEEPING.”

The benefits coordinator at work asks why I look so nice and if I have any Valentine’s Day plans with my boyfriend. I make something up because since she and I haven’t been on speaking terms since summer, it occurs to me that she doesn’t know this boyfriend and I split in September. And sometimes I just look nice, dammit.

I pass a homeless man on Adams and Wells. Before I can say “no cash on me, man,” he looks me straight in the eyes and says “Someone’s going to be perfect for you.” I am not making this up. My knees shook for half a block.

Dad and I talk for 20 minutes about pulled pork. The words “Oh man” are uttered roughly every 45 seconds.

  1. shadesofwhatever posted this