Deciding to take the 6 train, for whatever reason, I am ecstatic to actually get a seat! I quickly pull out the book I get to read for 5-6 minutes a day. I once again think, no wonder I haven’t finished a book in the last three months. As I am staring at the book, rather than reading it, I feel someone staring at me. I turn to face the woman who has not only sat down next to me, but is staring me up and down.
She is definitely in her 80’s, with bright white hair and large eyes full of laugh lines. Only homeless people ever speak to me on the train. I wonder if she’s going to speak to me. She does. “Do you have anywhere to go tonight?” She asks. Of course, the first thought I have is that she is asking if I have a home to go to. I look homeless. I run a checklist through my mind: did I shower today? Did I forget deodorant? Is my hair really messy? Once I realize that I do not appear homeless, I clearly decide she must be homeless. She’s going to ask to come home with me! I look a little closer at her groomed hair, tailored clothes, and manicured nails. She’s not homeless! What does she want from me?!
“YES!” I blurt out in answer to her question. I speak quite a bit louder than I normally would on a subway, even when talking to the elderly. Did anyone notice? “Oh...” she says, reaching into her purse, “I have an extra ticket to Shakespeare in the Park and you look like a really nice girl. I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me.” Wow. I’m a jerk.
Now that rationality reappears in my brain, I feel horrible guilt. Did she know my horror when she began to speak to me? She said I looked nice, so maybe not. Of course, now I have to justify her compliment. How do I be nice? I’d better keep talking to her. “That is so sweet of you! I absolutely would go if I didn’t already have plans – that sounds like we would have had fun!”
She continues our conversation, “What plans do you have?” Oh! This is my time to shine and show her that I’m not blowing her off because she’s old! “I’m having dinner with my boyfriend’s grandparents tonight – they’re in town for the week!” This doesn’t seem to have the effect on her that I was hoping for. Her eyes drop and she lets out a deep sigh, “My grandson was supposed to come to the play with me tonight, but he canceled.” Oh no! I consider asking for his number so that I can call and let him know his grandmother is asking strangers on the train to hang out with her, so he’d better not stand her up again. This whole conversation has been a disaster. I make some sympathetic noises and am relieved when she decides to look away. I read my book but keep a smile plastered on my face so she knows I’m willing to start the conversation any time she wants. Finally, it’s my stop. “Have a wonderful night!” I emphasize my words as I slowly walk off the train as if I didn’t want to leave my old friend.
What about that interaction made me feel so guilty? Was it the initial assumption that I was talking to a maniacal homeless person? Was it that I was a better grandchild than she had? Perhaps it was the fact that she said I looked nice when I certainly didn’t feel like I was. Either way, her invitation certainly had an effect on me…I can’t wait to find someone to take me to Shakespeare in the Park!
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