ScallionLove

The F train was an at absolute crawl this morning, stopping for 20 minutes between each station for several stations and packed to the gills with angry commuters. The most entertaining thing that happened was the homeless man with tourettes syndrome...for him I was profoundly grateful, even though he shoved me aside in an attempt to evade the "angry brothas" that were closing in on him. No one was chasing him, but I definitely understood the feeling of being trapped.

Anyway, when the train went above ground at 4th Ave. (in brooklyn), everyone whipped out their phones to call into work and say they were going to be late. There was a moment of pause after all the phones had been flipped open. Commuters looked around at one another...wondering...who would be first. Who would be the first to call in and say "Hey, (name), it's (name), i'm going to be late. Yeah we've been stuck here for.....DUHN DUHN DUHNNNNN....

How many minutes would he/she report? Of course, late trains are the perfect excuse for getting to work late. I (like many of my cohorts) was already late (for my 10 AM budget meeting) and fully intended on padding the amount of time i'd report being stuck under ground. Thought i'd add on an extra 10 or so minutes. But, packed into the subway like that, none of us wanted to be the first one to LIE in a 'room' full of about 100 people who would all know they were lying...

Finally, a finance-looking type took the first turn (i think he'd accepted the fact that we all already thought of him as an asshole) and reported that he'd been stuck, unmoving for 15 minutes. After he said "minutes" it was like the "all clear" sign had been waved and everyone else called in with rapid-fire dialing, reporting anything from a 15 to 20 minute delay (we'd probably been there about 7).

Fortunately, I know my boss does text messaging. So, I was able to text in my lateness (I ended up going with 20 minutes....sue me). But, I couldn't help but be entertained by the fact that in a city crowded with people busily scurrying to their high-powered, high-paying, high-fashion, high-stress, artsy fartsy, new age-y jobs, once the alpha male exhibited a behavior, the rest of the pack followed suit. Guess we're not as evolved as we'd like to think.

It started out as a typical Wednesday: work, flinging rubber bands at Ann, looking for apartments, Power Dance class... Also, I was scheduled to go to 'A Chorus Line' on Broadway with my friend and colleague, Holden. We thought Mario Lopez was still headlining, but apparently he only played the Zack character briefly before moving on. Anyway, I needed to get cleaned up for AC Slater (or so I though), so I grabbed a quick shower in the locker room. I freaked when i stepped out and looked at the clock.....7:40. We only had four blocks to go, but i still wanted to pretty up a little. So, I quickly dressed and brushed my hair.

As I was dressing I noticed this strange woman...well, woman NOW. She was a trannie, definitely. Not that that was the strange part. She just seemed to be acting weird. Not changing, just kind of hanging around. I forgot all about her, however, when I noticed the clock again. 7:46. SHIT! So I shoved my stuff in my locker and ran over to the mirror/hair dryer counter (NOT far from my locker, mind you.) to dry my bangs and throw on some under eye concealer. Approximately 75 seconds later, I returned to my locker to find the trannie pulling my wallet out of my purse! I said, "HEY, that's my wallet!" ran over, and grabbed it back from her. Caught off guard (and really effing out of it...meth, i think), she said "oh, sorry...yeah, i was just looking for my bag" and pretended to look around for her alleged bag. Then she tried to take someone else's bag from a bench! I believe the woman who's bag it was had gone to the bathroom. Luckily, there was a NYSC trainer standing there who saw the whole thing. She said "i'm going to need you to provide ID out of that bag or something that shows me it's yours." And the trannie said "I don't have ID" then fumbled around with the zipper and pulled out some Pol-i-dent and said "oh but i have this and, see, i have dentures."

I gazed at her dentures in disbelief. Not disbelief that they were dentures...they looked like dentures...bad dentures...but disbelief at what had just happened. Still in shock, I fumbled through my wallet, making sure she hadn't taken any credit cards, located my cell phone and iPod and figured there wasn't anything else of value in there to be concerned about. Then I headed downstairs to meet my friend, Holden. He was waiting by the front desk somewhat impatiently. I told him what had happened and proceeded to relay the story to the girl at the front desk (who was on the phone...they're ALWAYS on the phone...which is probably how the woman got in there to begin with.)

Then, I saw the woman coming down the stairs toward the exit with the trainer hot on her heels. She was carrying the backpack she'd swiped from the locker room, the trainer not wanting to let her take it. Another trainer who was standing by said "maam, i need to see your membership card." This is when the woman got hostile. She started yelling "I don't have it!" and pushing to get out the door. A big, burly "membership consultant" (sales guy) was standing there. He followed her out and retrieved the bag. He tried to restrain her till the cops arrived, but she started hitting him, so he let her go.

By this point it was 7:50 and Holden was practically yanking me out the door. The trainer saw everything happen, so I left my information for the cops in case they wanted to call me and headed out....hey, I had a SHOW to go to! I was really shaken the whole walk over to the theater. Holden did his best to make light of it, spewing off lots of one-liner gems like "trannie, get your gun." I laughed but didn't really calm down till much later.

Actually, I still find it upsetting. The image of her holding my wallet and digging in my purse is emblazoned on my brain. I felt so violated. I realize this could have been a lot worse. She could have taken something or even become violent with me. But still, the experience left me shaken. Oh well...all I can do is remember to always put my lock on my locker, even if i'm stepping away for a second. Oh, and appreciate the fact that I am now ballsy enough to snatch my shit back from a 6'3" meth-addicted trannie!

...and of course appreciate the strangeness of the story. I mean, you can't make that shit up.

"Lord," I said.  "When will she be here?"

"Tomorrow," Ann replied.  "Yeah, she even had a thick southern accent."

Yesterday, Ann informed me that there would be a girl stopping by to interview us about development.  Specifically - how it relates to a foundation which supports a dance company.  We both grumbled, annoyed about spending time explaining our jobs to some 22 year old with bright eyes when there were more important things to attend to - budget planning for next year, letters to everyone in our database, prospect compilation of possible donors and a payment request to the city's cultural affairs department.  There was no time for this girl.  But, we couldn't say no, she'd asked so nicely.

At 1:30 today Dan buzzed to say that she was here.  "Crap," Ann said.  "I totally forgot that girl was coming in to talk about development."  "Oh jeeze," I said with an eye roll.  "Ok, let's do this thing."  I went out to get her while Ann retrieved a couple of chairs.

Sitting there in her tights and frock and with her long eyelashes over sparkling blue eyes, she annoyed me.  "Hi," I said very matter-of-fact.  "I'm Jessie.  I believe you spoke to Ann."  "Yes!" she replied.  "I'm ___, it's so nice to meet you.  Thank you so much for your time."  I noticed braces-perfect teeth and a smile that didn't break for the entirety of our interview.  And what's worse - it was completely genuine.

So I went from being annoyed with this disruption to wanting to make a good impression.  God knows I don't want anyone, least of all this bushy tailed ingenue, to know that i'm basically faking it...winging it...what have you.  And, maybe there was some slim chance I could actually impart something that might be usefull!....or shape her life's path!...I explained the facets of institutional fundraising and she smiled at me, completely devoid of hidden agenda, just happy that we were willing to answer her questions.

It didn't take long to notice her voice...her ADORABLE voice.  High pitched but soft with a heavy southern accent.  You can't help but adore that.  And want to put it in your pocket.  And have tea parties with it later.  What?

Anyway, as the interview progressed it became less and less formalized until I finally realized that Ann and I were smiling and giggling back at her.  She had infected us with her jubilance and sweetness and we were brought back to a time before New York and it's coldness, before having to learn to be aggressive - brought back to a place of being sweet and kind just for the sake of being sweet and kind....because it felt good to be sweet and kind.

And after she'd gone Ann and I fawned over her cuteness and earnest.  Wishing, perhaps, that that girl in each of us didn't have to become so hidden by toughness and survival and self-sufficiency.  Wishing, perhaps, that she could come out and play more often.

I sit in cars and waiting rooms

I wait

By hospital beds and outside front doors

I wait

For him in the rain

I wait

For something to change

I wait

If patience is a virtue

And fear a waste of time

And love something to leap for

What does waiting bring?

For fall, for spring

For silence in summertime

For a love worth sacrifice

For all the right reasons

I wait

For too long

I wait

I put Bob and Gretta's pictures back in my Italy photo album today. There are pictures of Gretta and I with our arms around each other. Goofy pictures of Bob. And, group shots of everyone on the trip - all set amidst the glow of the Tuscan countryside.

As I type this i'm listening to "Songbird" by Eva Cassidy. I couldn't think of a more appropriate sentiment. In it, she sings, "I love you like never before." Since their engagement - and my initial downward spiral into outrage - i've felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Like, the thing that I most feared happened and brought with it the peace of mind i've craved for almost two years. In my most secret, benevolent heart, I am happy for them. In letting go and in loving both of them - like never before - I am free.

As I put the pictures back, I remembered each place and each person's luminous face. I felt whole. As I put the pieces of my broken album back together, I removed the wrenching vices which bastardized my memories and the pure joy they provided me. I realized that my love affair with Bob is still mine. And, in that place, in the summer of 2005, I still have that. And, my friendship with Gretta and the strange, naive, and achingly beautiful bond we shared still exists in my memories and in my photo album.

My heart feels tired, like a muscle over exerted but not necessarily injured. A muscle challenged to it's limits but unbroken. And in that aching sweetness - in that realization that all this time i've felt broken, i was just exerted beyond what i thought were my limits - I feel whole. So "I love you like never before" is not only for the two of them, not just for my memories, but for me - for the woman I am. She survived this and she is whole. And for that I love her - like never before.