Continued Confessions

as I live and breathe

It’s Thursday, and this week I have a lot to say of a personal nature which is a good way to avoid politics. My topic is the kindness of strangers because I encountered such a lot of it on a recent trip to NYC.

The first episode was when I realized that my local bus doesn’t make my stop that early in the morning, but it happened that a neighbor previously unknown to me was getting into her car and I begged a ride to the closest bus stop by the hospital. It turned out that she was going there—and that was a happy coincidence because it was actually her day off but she was going in to help out. That bus got me to the train station just in time to take the commuter rail into the City. I love riding the train and I especially adore Grand Central Station. I was thrilled to see that they now have an interactive site that details the work that Jackie O. did to save this marvelous building. I always join all the tourists in oohing and aahing especially over the celestial ceiling.

My next encounter with helpful strangers was when I treated myself to a full mani-pedi at a salon. I usually get a pedi only so having the hands done too was my birthday treat to myself. The women running the salon were speaking a foreign language, and being the nosy type, I asked what it was. They said Cantonese and I made the faux pas of mentioning Mandarin which in my ignorance is what I thought all people from China spoke. So now I have learned that there are many different dialects, and I am very glad that my nail experts didn't take offense at my ignorance. They pampered me delightfully with a lengthy leg massage which I have never included before and accommodated my request to make the bill and tip come out to exactly $80 in honor of my birthday.

Thanks to my darling daughter, I spent the night in a hotel near the medical facilities I had to visit, and I got to watch cable TV on a very large screen. My watching at home is usually confined to Netflix, and seeing the news and morning talk shows was fascinating. Because I wake so early, I decided to go out for breakfast as soon as it was light enough, and I discovered Diner24 was within in walking distance. And there I had a delicious breakfast and chatted with the owner because I once worked as a waitress and I have a deep-seated love for real diners. Great blues music was playing as I sat in my booth, and I started dancing in place and told the owner as he was totting up his receipts about going to see live bands at the Mohegan Sun which were at noon for us old folks. This of course led me to mention that I was treating myself for my 80th next week. I also nosily asked whether by chance he was Greek (before I found out his name), and sure enough he was—and he lived in Astoria. The owners of the diner where I worked in New London were Greek and it does seem to be a common reality—just like nail salons are mostly Asian. Anyway, the diner was empty at that time of the morning and as I checked out, Spiro and his staff sang Happy Birthday to me and had even turned the ambient music to the appropriate song. What a lovely surprise!

Another kindness from a stranger was when I used the subway—another treat for me—and the MetroCard I had didn’t work at the turnstile. A lovely man saw my dilemma and reached out to help me, but he couldn't get it to work either. So he quickly swiped his own card and waved me through. His thoughtful gesture almost brings tears to my eyes as I recall it. I love the subway and hope to be able to ride it for a few more years too.

My last encounter with a stranger was when I completed my medical appointment and grabbed a yellow cab outside the hospital to get back to Grand Central. I’m glad that there are still these iconic cabs left on the streets. And being the chatty Kathy that I am, I found out that my driver was from Egypt and we discussed my memory of Nasser when I was a child in England. This driver was 20 years younger than I but still had a hatred of Nasser and believed that King Farouk was a better leader. Honestly, I’ll have to look up that history to better understand why he might feel that way. Anyway, he got me close to the entrance of the station and gallantly got out and opened the back door of his cab for me. What a melting pot, eh?

Without prior planning, I managed to arrive just in time to catch a train home. Mission accomplished and a world tour to boot. And I just found out that I share my birthday with Jim Davis, creator of Garfield, who also turns 80 on the 28th. Excellent company.

RESIST ALWAYS

TTFN