Monday, after nearly a week with my family, a long two-train ride back to Grand Central, and a two-train subway trip up to Washington Heights, carrying my small backpack (filled with only my trusty but heavy old Macbook Pro, one t-shirt, shaving kit, kindle, sunglasses, phone charger, and medications), I approached the elevator to the street, which was already packed with one tired-looking woman and her stroller, and a crowd of people who all looked healthy enough to take the stairs.
I managed to squeeze in, turning around to avoid getting my carry-on caught in the doors, fearing a potential repeat of the incident I reported in my previous "Subway Savior" post.
The well-dressed young man behind me muttered something like, "Can you move away a little?", a useless comment in the elevator, and I was not even sure was directed to me.
But his next comment was:
"Why don't you hold the backpack instead of pushing it into me?", while looking down and clearly seeing my one hand in a wrist brace and the other holding a cane. I could not decide whether to respond with "Why don't you hold it for me if it's such a problem?" or "Hold THIS", with the appropriate gesture.
But being a good citizen, polite, and not wanted to make a scene for the other passengers, I bit my tongue.
In contrast, when I exited the elevator, after the tired mom, Mr. "Master of the Universe" and the rest of the crowd, a Latino gentleman caught me as I lost my balance and almost fell.
The good, the bad, and the ugly of NYC... at least the guy didn't push me out the doors ;)
Stay chill in the heat of the moment -)
