Something I'm Proud Of...

...not so much the act, but the fact that I didn't hesitate to do it.

So it's warm outside and humid; the typical summer day in Los Angeles. I'm usually sweating at around 7AM, right out of the shower, and that's average. There are days that eclipse that experience, where I'm very grateful for central air. Today was a more of an average uncomfortable day, weather wise. I was sweating on my walk home. Imagine all that weather, while being in a charcoal Jones NY wool suit... yep.

My walk home is about a mile or so and it's tolerable with my super comfortable Rockport dress shoes - hey, they ain't your grandad's Rockports - these are good looking and awesome for the feel. With my iPod going, the hot weather melts itself away. Today was a little different.

A quarter of the trip in, I encountered my new commute buddy - Suzie. I met her yesterday at the local bus stop. Based on her business wear, I of course asked if she worked downtown. She did. I asked where. She mentioned a Japanese subsidiary bank. I asked "Is it Manufacturer's Bank?"

"Yeeeeeees?"

"Do you know, Ed James?"

She began to laugh hysterically.

Ed James is a buddy of mine that I met at the gym about three years ago. We've played countless games of basketball and socialized outside the gym. I had lunch with Mr. James last Friday. He's Suzie's boss' boss. Small world. She's also my neighbor.

Anyway, I encountered her on the way home today - she's a fast walker. We spoke about our days - she has a challenging position at the bank. I can appreciate that. A few moments later, we came across an elderly woman... clearly homeless... in a wheel chair. She was beckoning for our help.

"Can you push me across the street?"

"Sure."

Suzie offers to take my brief case/bag and we're off.

"I just got out of the hospital. Someone pushed me out and I landed on my head."

"Wow, that's terrible. Why would someone do that?"

"I don't know," the woman lamented. "I was hit by a bus."

That's a rather profound statement considering. Of course Suzie and I were shocked.

"What?" I asked.

"Yes, on Avenue 26 and Figueroa. I went out to cross the street and the bus hit me. They thought I did it on purpose."

"Who gets hit by buses on purpose?"

"Not me! They gave me five thousand dollars for it?"

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"Getting hit by a bus is not as profitable as it once was. The times have changed."

She laughed and continued, "Arnold took ten thousand of what they gave me."

"That's a Republican for you." Even in such a discussion, Republicans are unsafe. I take no prisoners.

We've traveled three blocks at that point and I'm drenched in sweat. It's not that she's obese or anything, it's just that her entire life was on that wheelchair. She must have been in the lead weight business, the poor thing.

"The bus hit me and the driver didn't know. It dragged me for half a block."

"Did the driver charge you bus fare?"

"No," she laughed.

"Free ride."

She laughed again. She then continued to explain how life has treated her harshly. It's amazing what happens to people and what people let happen to them. It's very sad, actually, that that kind of thing is allowed to happen. I have a theory - if everyone helped one person, every day, there would be less human tragedy.

Near the end of our journey, the sidewalk narrows to where a wheelchair cannot pass, so we took to the streets. We even had to face down a bus, which I thought was poetic. A mile and half later, it was time to part ways with Terry. She was grateful for the help, thanked me, smiled, and Suzie and I walked back home.

My dress shirt is drenched; my undershirt is a wet rag; my feet hurt. But none of that matters.