"Love is a harsh and dreadful thing to ask of us, but it is the only answer."--Dorothy Day


The Good People of New York.

Right before I moved to New York, I read a book called The Good People of New York. A good read, very funny (I loaned to another temp and never got it back). However after the day I've had, I wonder if they exist. This morning as is my usual I took the F-train into Manhattan for work. It seemed more crowded than usual. Three stops before exiting Brooklyn, a woman, in her haste to get off the train, punches another woman. The puncher swears to the punchee that she just tripped and accidently hit her. The punchee says "No [swear] [swear] [swear]. You [swear]ing hit me." And sweary, word match ensues. Puncher gets off the train and goes about her day. Three stops later...in Manhattan now, a horde of people are getting on the train and from behind me I hear "Get outta the way." And "I would if you'd [swear] stop pushing me." The punchee and I chuckled, recognizing the kind of day ahead. [Here's to you girl who got punched on the F-train leaving 4th Avenue at 8:15, from the girl who go kicked on the 4-train heading for Grand Central sometime in 2003.]

The mean person is ever-present in NYC. From nasty deli counter man to foul CBGB girl, they plague our daily lives. What is the purpose of mean people? Are they put on this earth to make me miserable, find mean mates and raise mean children, and spread it all around? Or are they here, as my mother said about mosquitos, to remind us that there has got to be something better ahead?

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