Just now:<\/p>\n
Standing in line at the post office. Very very long line.<\/p>\n
A woman asked me if I knew what time it was. I told her. She started talking to me.<\/p>\n
Normally, in New York, when someone gets all chatty with you, it is because they are lost, desperately lonely, or mentally ill.<\/p>\n
This was not how it was with Gladys (I found out her name at the end). As the conversation flowed (and it did, man, it just flowed) I thought: This could, conceivably, go on forever. And that wouldn’t be too bad a thing. It was a GREAT conversation. Very very deep.<\/p>\n
Gladys. I may never see her again. But I won’t forget her.<\/p>\n
She was very petite, and Latin-looking. Obviously bi-lingual, she had a bit of an accent. A beautiful face. Smooth tan skin. She had her black hair slicked across the top of her head, and then it popped out into a curly ponytail in the back. She was young, she almost looked like a teenager. She obviously was from a rough background. Do not ask me how I know, but I just know. You can tell these things.<\/p>\n
It’s fresh in my mind, so let me just re-create the conversation, as it occurred:<\/p>\n
Gladys: “Excuse me, do you have the time?”<\/p>\n
Me: “It’s blah blah blah.”<\/p>\n
Gladys: “Oh, thank you. I’m on a break.” Pause. “I go to school across the street.”<\/p>\n
“Oh … in my building, I think? There’s some kind of school on the 2nd floor.”<\/p>\n
“Actually, that’s the administrative offices. The school itself is on the 3rd.”<\/p>\n
“What kind of school is it?”<\/p>\n
“They train people to be medical assistants. That’s one of their programs, anyway.”<\/p>\n
“Is that what you’re doing?”<\/p>\n
“Yes. They also have other programs … They train people to be private detectives, they teach people to run laboratories, stuff like that.”<\/p>\n
“Private detectives … really? And so … how long is the program?”<\/p>\n
“My program is 9 months long. I have 3 months to go.”<\/p>\n
“Once you’re done, do they place you?”<\/p>\n
“Well, then we can apply for internships, and if they like you at the internships, they might hire you. Or – the school will help you get a job. But I don’t really want the school to do it for me. I’d rather do the research on jobs on my own, and the kind of internships that would interest me – so that – if they do offer me a job, I would actually want to work there. Know what I mean?”<\/p>\n
“Sure. Sounds like a really good program. Do you like it?”<\/p>\n
“It’s all right. I mean, I think that the program should really reach out more to people like me – people with lower incomes, or no income – They should do outreach, stuff like that, because that’s the people who are really looking to make changes in their lives, people who want to … I guess progress is the word I want. You know? I want to progress. I started out on the bottom, but I want to better myself, and make a better life for myself. This program is perfect for people like me. But they don’t advertise, they don’t do outreach programs up in the Bronx, where I live, and they really should. People who already have good jobs, and who have money, aren’t gonna want to take this program. But whatever.”<\/p>\n
I joked. “Maybe you should move into the administrative offices. Whip their business into shape.”<\/p>\n
She laughed. Sharp as a whip, this Gladys. We are standing in the post office, and this perfect stranger is telling me about how she wants to “better herself”.<\/p>\n
Gladys went on. “I mean, I’m 24 years old. I have a 6 year old son. So obviously, I’ve made some mistakes in my life. I did some things too soon. And a lot of my friends are the same way, you know? Don’t get me wrong, when I was 22, 23, I spent a lot of time looking at myself in the mirror, feeling sorry for myself. ‘I can’t believe I’m 22 and I’m such a loser!’ Stuff like that. But then I realized – wait a minute. Yeah, I’ve made mistakes…”<\/p>\n
“Who hasn’t?”<\/p>\n
“Exactly! Who hasn’t! And you can sit around dwelling on it, or you can pick yourself up, and try to make something out of your life. That’s what I am trying to do. It’s hard, though, because a lot of the girls in my program are really young – and … I mean, they come into classes like this–” (Gladys then did a perfect imitation of young hip-hop tough-girl posing) “They snap their gum, they don’t talk right, and they’re just …”<\/p>\n
“They sound immature.”<\/p>\n
“Yeah! They’re totally immature! They think that stuff should just be given<\/i> to them, you know what I mean? And, sorry, but they’re totally ignorant. Like – I mean … with everything going on in the world right now … and not even just the world … just in our city … how can you not take stuff seriously? How can you not get that we don’t have a lot of time on this earth, and you need to work hard?”<\/p>\n
“I so hear what you’re saying.” (In case you haven’t guessed, I DEEPLY loved this girl by this point, and wanted her to keep talking forever.)<\/p>\n
She went on. “I try to tell that to my friends. I tell them that we are not our mistakes. Mistakes are things that happen, choices we made … and we can either moan about it, or we can stand up again.”<\/p>\n
I said, “And you have a 6 year old son. That’s wonderful.”<\/p>\n
“I don’t know about that! I’m exhausted all the time.”<\/p>\n
“Well, I’m a lot older than you, and I don’t have kids.”<\/p>\n
She burst out laughing. “You’re lucky!”<\/p>\n
“I see what you mean – it’s a grass is always greener thing – but I’m telling you, that biological clock is a real thing!”<\/p>\n
“Did you not want to have kids, or…?”<\/p>\n
“Guess I just haven’t met the right guy yet. I do want kids.”<\/p>\n
She laughed again. “I don’t want anymore.”<\/p>\n
“But see? That’s great! You are DONE! When you’re in your 30s, and 40s – you won’t have little kids running around, you’ll have more freedom. But if I have a kid now, I’m gonna be schlepping them around well into my 50s.”<\/p>\n
She said, “It’s weird – having a kid. It’s really scary. Especially now.” (I was getting the sense that Gladys was not – to use Rebecca West’s term for females only interested in their private concerns – an “idiot”. She was well-informed. She continued to reference “especially now”, “in a world like ours,” “these days” …)<\/p>\n
I said, “I can’t even imagine.”<\/p>\n
She said, “I mean, my God, when that thing happened in Russia … I just … my son’s school started the next day and I was terrified to take him.”<\/p>\n
“Oh, God.”<\/p>\n
“And my friends were all like, ‘Oh, it could never happen here!'”<\/p>\n
She and I then spoke in unison. Loudly. As though speaking to her group of idiot friends: “YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!”<\/p>\n
Gladys said, “How could they think that? Especially now … especially in this city … how could they not think that something like that could happen?”<\/p>\n
We were now approaching the end of the line.<\/p>\n
I said to her, “You know, I have a feeling you’re going to do really well in your life.”<\/p>\n
She can’t see it now. Of course she can’t. She’s in the middle of it! She’s just trying to survive right now.<\/p>\n
She rolled her eyes, sighed, said something like, “I gotta do SOMETHING, you know?”<\/p>\n
I said, “You’re gonna do fine. I can tell.”<\/p>\n
The next service window was called. I held out my hand to her. “I’m Sheila.”<\/p>\n
She shook my hand. “I’m Gladys.”<\/p>\n
“Nice to meet you.”<\/p>\n
“You too, Sheila.”<\/p>\n
And that was that.<\/p>\n
But damn. I really feel like I just met someone completely SUBSTANTIAL. “We are not our mistakes.” 24 year old girl.<\/p>\n
Talking to her was the random gift of the day.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Just now: Standing in line at the post office. Very very long line. A woman asked me if I knew what time it was. I told her. She started talking to me. Normally, in New York, when someone gets all … Continue reading