I was just going out for a cup of tea. On my way out of the cafe I saw this guy walking up the street and he kind of had a question on his face. Somehow I didn't feel a "can't-help-ya" moment coming. He asked me where to find the bus to Camden. All I knew was Market Street but didn't know exactly which bus. I asked him where in Camden he wanted to go.
"City Hall." I suggested he take the train [PATCO], however directing him from 9th and Arch to the 8th and Market underground train station, I figured would be tough for both of us. I'm guessing he, his name was David, was Hispanic, possibly Puerto Rican. I detected a slight accent. He spoke and understood English well, thank goodness, because if I'd've had to speak Spanish I may have gotten through it, but it would've been embarrassing.
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| Random Locker Room Selfie 8-22-16 YMCA |
Anyway, we walked to the train station, chit chatting along the way. David had traveled down to Philly from New York on the Chinatown bus. He was amazed that the ride was only $8.00. He was going to visit his brothers who he'd not seen in twenty years. My guess, David was in his 70s. He was kind of bent over, but strong - I could tell by his walk. I didn't have to baby-step him to the station and when we got there he wasn't out of breath.
He didn't know how to operate the ticket kiosk - a feeling I know and remember well, so I took care of that for him. showed him the map.. One stop. We introduced ourselves on closing salutations, he thanked me, I wished him a safe trip and I came on back to the gig.
What I thought was pretty cool is that I didn't feel that overwhelmingly good feeling of satisfaction. Like I'd be rewarded by angels or something. It was more like... I simply took responsibility for getting this guy to his destination, because if I'd simply given him directions - even if I had the means to draw him a map, I would have wondered if he made it okay. As an after thought, I was impressed and (felt some kind of way) that he was trusting enough to put a few moments of his destiny in my hands - especially when we went through the doors that led to the steps that led to the station. I've been using it for many years so I don't notice it as much, but it is rather sketchy - people sleep in there and sometimes they don't respect the space.
Anyway - this reminds me of a notable experience from two days ago... very brief, but somehow magical.
I was leaving the gig and I hear a female voice say, "Thank you for your service." I turn around and acknowledge the young lady's gratitude with a kind of salute and thank her.. which was all I could think to say. Then I start wondering, how she knew - aside from the boonie hat and cammo backpack - which is basically my uniform of the day - I was an actual vet. And then I start wondering what era. Did she think I just got out?? And then I finally dismissed it and headed on home.
I made a good connect at the Y with a woman who works with veterans. I know where I can get my vets ID card... and I plan - no, I intend to take care of that on Friday.
And that's the update. It doesn't seem very exciting now, but I supposed one day I'll look back over these blogs and remember it fondly.
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