Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Betrayal

Every morning, I have a similar routine. I rush out of bed, trying to cling to my sheets till the last ticking second possible, hitting one alarm off after another (yes, I set three different alarms). I get up, hop around, rush to the train station, get sticky, sweaty, and smelly (BO spreads. legits).

And once I get off the station, I always always go to the little hole-in-the-wall Dunking Donuts store to get a coffee.

What do I get everyday? A Hot Coffee, Medium, with Cream and Sugar. Oh, and on a paper cup please. [[Note: I am not much of a go green person, though I wish I were, but Mariko told me that Styrophome cups were bad for health, and environment, were not easily degradable, and animals could mistake it for food...I think the health part really got me asking for paper cups...hmm...ok, sorry about the digression!]]

Anyway, when one gets the same thing to drink, around the same time, every morning, from the same guy - his name is Ali, yep, just Ali - it becomes a habit. Both for the customer i.e. ME and the vendor i.e. Ali. Every morning when Ali sees me he gets that paper cup ready and pours me that medium hot coffee (original blend, mind you, and god forbid NOT decaf!) with cream and sugar. The cup exchanges hands, I pay and I leave. Routine. We humans have such a habit of falling into a routine.

But today something changed. Something different happened. The world as Ali and I knew was about to come to an end.

This morning, I got off the train in more of a rush than usual. I was slightly late as I had to wait for 4 trains before I could squeeze myself into one. So, not surprisingly, ONCE AGAIN, I was hot, sweaty, smelly and annoyed. I briskly walked to DD, cuz America runs on it, obvi, and stood in line. I wanted something cool today, I though, and without giving any more thought to it, I asked for a medium ICED coffee, with cream and sugar, paid for it and waited on the side.

But when Ali saw me, unaware of my change of plans he quickly got my medium coffee with cream and sugar ready in a PAPER CUP!

There stood Ali with my cup in his hand, a smile on his face, greeting his "loyal" customer, unaware of the betrayal that had taken place. The lady who had taken my order barked an order at him immediately.

"Iced coffee!!"

I stuttered, mumbled that I would take the medium coffee, reached out for it but our bond of medium coffee with cream and sugar on a paper cup had already broken when I decided to switch drinks. He had a long line to cater too and he simply dumped my coffee and gave me an iced cofee, with an icy look in his eyes.

Feeling awful, I left, with my iced coffee tinkling, swirling, and swooshing around in the cup.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Jesus Christ!?

Will this city ever cease to scare me? Amaze me? Scare me? Amuse me? Scare me? Confuse me? Scare me? Throw me off me feet...did i mention scare me?

So me and my roommates were walking back from a nice quiet dinner, very close to our apartment when this lady comes up to us and asks, "Whats at the end of the road? You need to tell my friend, she is too scared to go over. Says its dark there. You need to tell her that its alright, there is a park there."

Dark in the Upper East Side? Ermm.. Straight up I was confused. Being the smart-ass and kind-hearted wanna be that I am, I stepped forward with a helping hand. (Not to mention, I am also the least experienced in NYC, both my roommates have lived here way longer than my paltry month and half!)

"Oh, at the end? Thats York Avenue. Very happening. [[note: I'd been to York Av. ONCE before]] Lots to do. Lots of light, bright. No need to be worried or scared. You should go!!"

As we're moving on, literally a step away from our apartment, the lady who wanted us to convince her friend starts blabbering about religion. There's something very eery about a middle-aged woman, moderately fashionably dressed up, at about 9:30 at night, asking us about whether we were good catholics, whether we went to church regularly or not, where we believed in Christ. I won't lie, I was scared.

"Erm, I don't believe in religion," I said. My friends were both behind me. Smartly quiet, smartly without retaliations or answers.

"Let Jesus into your hearts, he will show you the way, he will show you the light, the reason for living."

In my head I'm chanting...ram, ram, ram, ram..om namah shivaya, om namah shivaya, om namah shivaya..but on the outside I'm nodding my head, in agreement with this fanatic that we've met RIGHT OUTSIDE OUT APARATMENT..telling me to embrace Jesus.

Oh my GANESHAAAA help me out here! "ok, goodnight" I try to see. Does , she listen? ...yeah, what do you think? of course not! jesus loves you, jesus this, embrace him....i'm nodding my head, smiling, brining out my diplomat best, nodding, smiling, "understanding", "appreciating"...Jessssssssus Christ, was I scared!

She eventually left. We were shocked, to put it mildly. You never know what ticks people off, and i sure as hell dont wanna tick anybody off in this crazed city..

Religion is a way of life. What's my religion? Ermm...i dont know, the statue of liberty? Manhattan? The Subway? Dunkin Donuts? My computer?? hmm..

Sunday, August 1, 2010

A sob story.

I finally moved into a new and more permanent place. Temporarily permanent, whatever that means. Everything around us is probably temporary, who ever came up with the word PERMANENT? hmm. But here I am, with a lamp to keep me company is a cute cubby hole! The best part of this room is that its got windows and right outside is the fire exit. Can't WAIT to get on that.

On my way here I was talking to the taxi driver. He was from Egyp and been here for the past 17 years. He probably has a family here too (and in Egypt). He told me that he went to Egypt every 2 years. But he's here, working hard, in the land of dreams and such a happy man too. Its the fact that I didn't have to struggle with too many things growing up that I don't appreciate a lot that I have. Not appreciate it enough though...

On a different note, I was on the train a few days ago, waiting to get off at a certain stop and a lady came in and sat next to me. She was crying her eyes out. Sobbing. Red, blotchy face. What did I do? Turned away. What did everybody else do? Stared for a few seconds and turned away. I wanted to ask what was wrong, but how could I help? My stop was coming up. I can't even say that NYC made me heartless, after all, I'd only been in the city for a few days when this happened. The incidence made me wonder how decenticised (sp??) I have become to human emotions. Maybe we have all, but I won't speak for somebody else's experiences.

I can't ask her what's wrong bhanera. What if...what if she wants some money? What if, what if she wants to...TALK? I don't have the time for that. Best look away. Stuff those ear phones in and look away. Bury my nose in my book and look away. I can hear her sniffles and groans, but I'd rather look away. Apple is a wonderful company and has done a great job of blocking such pitiful noises. God bless ipods. I repeat my "look away" mantra. Its sad. Real real sad. I wish I had the courage to just ASK what was wrong, even if I couldn't help, at least ASK. Even if I didn't care, just an acknowledgement of the fact that she was in pain. "Is everything ok?" or "Are you alright?" She might have answered in a thousand different ways, but the least she'd know is that I can SEE that she is in pain, I can HEAR it, and if nothing else, I'd tell her that I was sorry that she was in pain. She wouldn't find help in me. Nor would she find a friend. She would, never the less, find that her emotions were not lost in the confines of a metro train.

I hope she is doing well, wherever she is.