Next Stop: Nice!
“Good morning ladies and gentlemen!”
Suddenly the train riders stopped cold. Were we in New York?
“Have a blessed day”
What?? How dare she? Was she being Ironic? One complete and completely understandable sentence. And one that didn’t scream at people for blocking the doors.
” The Next stop is Lexington Ave. 59th Street”
Was she a recording? And I wasn’t the only one who was surprised. Every person in those two or three cars must have been thinking the same. At least the people around me were shocked. Suddenly I couldn’t drink my coffee anymore. I had gotten sick. I was fed up with her niceness. Niceness was not something I had become used to, especially not at 9 in the morning. New York mornings are more like:
“That’s my seat you fucking bitch!”
“But I am 90 and I have a cane”
“Not my fucking problem.”
That was to some extent an expected New York morning. Then it hit me : being nice had been shipped off the island.
Seriously! I started paying attention to how armed and ready I was for people. I have the answers and curse names at the tip of my tongue, ” Fuck you asshole!” , I can remember the last time I said that. Though I can’t remember when i said good morning to a random person.
So much attitude and suddenly it becomes the norm. It’s like we forget the basics and just go into aggressive instinct mode all the time. “Don’t fuck with me fellas!” That’s the right attitude. Don’t fuck with me. Don’t you dare say good morning and expect me to smile and say it back. Don’t you dare stand up and give me your seat, are you calling me old? Thank you? I’ll show you gratitude motherfucker.
Perhaps, if we were to take it down one notch we’d, I don’t know, feel a bit better. Wouldn’t wake 20 times up before the alarm actually goes off. Wouldn’t ignore possible friendships with other people next to us. Would feel good over something that doesn’t involve BUYING. Maybe the apartments in new york would be made a bit bigger from now on, you know, so we could fit all of our new friends.
Cliche? YES. Vomit worthy? Yes. Yet, it’s something to think about.
Perhaps everything isn’t always fake. Sometimes there is a genuine act of kindness behind actions.
I remember not being able to fall in love for the longest time because everything about love was always so fake to me. If someone said “I love you” I would hail the next cab and never return the call. I couldn’t stop criticizing everything about everyone that walked by me. Sarcasm was in almost every sentence I uttered. I just couldn’t say:
” Yes, you look like a retard wearing those glasses, but maybe you’re happy as a retard.”
I could make snap judgements about everyone. It sounded like fun joked but then I just wasn’t saying anything nice about anyone anymore.
Sounds fucked up. And it IS. Just pay attention. You’ll see what I am talking about.
Try to think something nice when you see that 14 year old boy in girl jeans. It just doesn’t happen.
Goal of this week: Being Nice.
