Monday, August 16, 2004
Keepin' It Real
Here's my daily adventure:
I get off work on time in order to go sign my lease. S 18th street in southside is truly going to become my home. Its so sweet.
So while i'm speeding off to southside, trying to make the appointment in time, I forget about one thing.
My gas gauage is digital. Digital and from the 80s.
So a quarter tank actually means empty, and empty means "Fuck you, you dumbshit."
Guess where the guage was pointing?
My car ran out of gas right before i could turn on to the carson street bridge. I had to drift down the street without brakes or power steering. You know that strech between downtown and southside that most consider part of the hill district?
Well, I do. Now.
I managed to yank the wheel hard enough when there was no oncoming traffic to turn down the street right after the carson street bridge, and between my emergency break and shifting from neutral to park, I managed to pull off onto the curb and come to a complete stop. My hazards were on this whole time so people could figure out that something was wrong.
As soon as I get out the car, some black kid sticks his head out the first floor window of the building I'm parked closest to, and spits at me.
What a friendly neighborhood!!!
A bunch of kids on their way to the south side YMCA ask if I need to call for help. I explain to them that my shit car doesn't tell me when I'm empty. And that I'll gladly pay them whatever I got in my wallet to watch my car so that nobody fucks with it.
So they take the $4 I have in cash, and I go to walk six blocks to the closest gas station.
I meet a nice man named Shaggy who loans me a 2 gallon gas can (which I pay to fill) in order to ressurect my car. On the way back, a women in a nurse's uniform with black sunglasses starts talking to me.
"Your car break down, honey?", she asks.
"Yeah," I reply, "its still a ways off."
"You want a girl?" she asks.
I can't really understand what she's asking. This woman had a voice that screamed "Too many menthol cigarettes and way too much bourbon."
"What?" I ask, thinking that maybe, just maybe the question was innocent
"You want a girl?"
At this point, a 5pm, being proposition by what has to be the ugliest prostitute since Jon's mom, I still cannot believe what I'm hearing. So I ask again.
"What?"
"You want a girl, honey?"
I just keep walking. No need to go there.
When I get back to my car, I find it intact. And one of the 10 year old kids actually is teaching himself ASP.NET. He knew the lingo. Go Geeks! I drove to the gas station, bought them some candy from a vending machine, and drove them to the south side community center.
Good deeds done by strangers at each side.
I have to admit when the first person I saw in that neighborhood looked at me and spit at me, I was a little bit on the defensive. But then as I talked to these kids, I realized that everyone's good in their own way. I flinched initially, but got over it quickly. Of course, you're going to be on the defensive when you're stranded. But the fact that I wasn't afraid of or for the people in that neighborhood (except the prostitute, she's still scary).
I've always believed that if you treat people with decency they will respond in kind. And indency and intolerance will bring the same back at you. Today was one of those days where I was validated. Introducing myself to a bunch of black teenagers I've never met before, and will probably never see again, I was able to make sure my car was safe and get directions. We both came away happy. Nobody took anything from my car. I didn't try to short them or accuse them or anything. I didn't pre-judge, and neither did they.
Contrast that to a certain ex-roommate who's afraid of black people. And can't even respond civilily to a note asking him to "do his share" and clean up an apartment, which we both use.
Its amazing that the kindness of those strangers actually gets rid of the awful taste such an inconsiderate fuckbag leaves in my mouth.
I get off work on time in order to go sign my lease. S 18th street in southside is truly going to become my home. Its so sweet.
So while i'm speeding off to southside, trying to make the appointment in time, I forget about one thing.
My gas gauage is digital. Digital and from the 80s.
So a quarter tank actually means empty, and empty means "Fuck you, you dumbshit."
Guess where the guage was pointing?
My car ran out of gas right before i could turn on to the carson street bridge. I had to drift down the street without brakes or power steering. You know that strech between downtown and southside that most consider part of the hill district?
Well, I do. Now.
I managed to yank the wheel hard enough when there was no oncoming traffic to turn down the street right after the carson street bridge, and between my emergency break and shifting from neutral to park, I managed to pull off onto the curb and come to a complete stop. My hazards were on this whole time so people could figure out that something was wrong.
As soon as I get out the car, some black kid sticks his head out the first floor window of the building I'm parked closest to, and spits at me.
What a friendly neighborhood!!!
A bunch of kids on their way to the south side YMCA ask if I need to call for help. I explain to them that my shit car doesn't tell me when I'm empty. And that I'll gladly pay them whatever I got in my wallet to watch my car so that nobody fucks with it.
So they take the $4 I have in cash, and I go to walk six blocks to the closest gas station.
I meet a nice man named Shaggy who loans me a 2 gallon gas can (which I pay to fill) in order to ressurect my car. On the way back, a women in a nurse's uniform with black sunglasses starts talking to me.
"Your car break down, honey?", she asks.
"Yeah," I reply, "its still a ways off."
"You want a girl?" she asks.
I can't really understand what she's asking. This woman had a voice that screamed "Too many menthol cigarettes and way too much bourbon."
"What?" I ask, thinking that maybe, just maybe the question was innocent
"You want a girl?"
At this point, a 5pm, being proposition by what has to be the ugliest prostitute since Jon's mom, I still cannot believe what I'm hearing. So I ask again.
"What?"
"You want a girl, honey?"
I just keep walking. No need to go there.
When I get back to my car, I find it intact. And one of the 10 year old kids actually is teaching himself ASP.NET. He knew the lingo. Go Geeks! I drove to the gas station, bought them some candy from a vending machine, and drove them to the south side community center.
Good deeds done by strangers at each side.
I have to admit when the first person I saw in that neighborhood looked at me and spit at me, I was a little bit on the defensive. But then as I talked to these kids, I realized that everyone's good in their own way. I flinched initially, but got over it quickly. Of course, you're going to be on the defensive when you're stranded. But the fact that I wasn't afraid of or for the people in that neighborhood (except the prostitute, she's still scary).
I've always believed that if you treat people with decency they will respond in kind. And indency and intolerance will bring the same back at you. Today was one of those days where I was validated. Introducing myself to a bunch of black teenagers I've never met before, and will probably never see again, I was able to make sure my car was safe and get directions. We both came away happy. Nobody took anything from my car. I didn't try to short them or accuse them or anything. I didn't pre-judge, and neither did they.
Contrast that to a certain ex-roommate who's afraid of black people. And can't even respond civilily to a note asking him to "do his share" and clean up an apartment, which we both use.
Its amazing that the kindness of those strangers actually gets rid of the awful taste such an inconsiderate fuckbag leaves in my mouth.
