a 3rd birthday treat from me

time flies. fart, could i be any less creative? must i resort to such cliche.
again, again, again.
time flies. what the!? ok fair enough. it's a lost battle.
time flies. i can't believe it's been exactly 3 years now since i've set off on this adventure of leaving manila to study (and now work and live) here in new york. temporarily at least.

while anniversaries always call for remembering, i would not go through each and every detail of the three years but instead focus on one—something which perhaps, or at least hopefully, relates well with the remembering/new york theme. besides, ive already been called out for not sharing this one "entry" yet, though i had promised i would so no better time than now.

enter fog machine. flashback theme. and black and white grainy treatment.

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(as lifted from the pages of my big thick black notebook. written on the bus to washington dc on good friday, 2005)

BAD Friday

Welcome to New York—land of the Grabbers. Where every one grabs and grabs whatever piece of land, space, and possession they can have all for themselves.

Shortly before 5:30, I got to the busy rush-hour corner of 7th Avenue and 34th st, by Macy's. Minutes before the bus I'm taking. Afraid I might end up missing the bus for having waited on the wrong side. On the corner, I spot a lady stranger with a suitcase and backpack, holding a white piece of paper just as I was. I walk around for a bit just making sure the bus isn't there yet, if at all. I park myself next to her as though hoping she'd be riding the same bus.

"Are you waiting for the bus?" she breaks the silence.
"Yes, the one going to DC?"
"Yes, I am too."
"I just hope we're on the right side."
"It's just too many people here and all of them are rude," she retorts as the sea of New York humanity rushes through, pushing and shoving whatever's on their way.
"You're obviously not from here," the smart aleck NYer in me just had to say.
"Oh yea, I've stayed in DC for a while and I just moved here last November."
Oh, one of those innocent ones.
"Ya, it's just too crowded. There's just too many people. It's like being in Times Square on a Saturday," agreeing with her, especially not a fan of rampaging crowds myself.

The bus arrives.
"That's our bus," she pleasantly goes. We head closer to the bus only to realize that it's already 3 quarters full of passengers from its earlier pick-up point. And worse, there was already a long line of people waiting for it.
"How could we have missed that [queue]?" I carry on with the small talk. We both head to the crowd, letting those infront of us push their way to being first in line. Pushing. Shoving. Very subtly at that. Fighting for position.
"Let me just put this under the bus," she points to her bag.
"Alright." I continued to stay in line hoping still that I'd manage to get a seat. I choose not to push and shove and cut the line as everyone else. It's just not me.
I look at her as she puts her bag under the bus. She could cut the line and head straight to the bus doors from there. But she doesn't. She goes back to the end of the line right behind me.
We're finally inside the bus. Still unsure if we'd end up having a seat. I ask the guy in the front row if the seat beside him with a bag is occupied.
"I don't know. It's been there..."
The girl behind him volunteers, "It's probably the bus driver's coz it's been there..."
Unsure, I go, "Nevermind. I'll just check the back seats. Thanks though."
Few rows later, an Asian girl with a package sitting next to her on the window seat.
Again i ask, "Is anyone sitting there?"
"Oh no." She clears the seat.
What the fuck. Only in New York do you find a packed bus or subway train with people having the audacity of having their precious shitty belongings take the seats of human beings.
Finally, I find a seat. I continue to watch the stranger acquaintance. She heads to the back of the bus. The Chinese conductor calls out, "2 seats. 2 seats" referring to front row seats. The couple near him takes the seats.
Everyone gets settled. All except one. The stranger who just hated the rudeness of New Yorkers. The bus was already full and the driver had to turn her away.

I was this close to offering my seat and instead be the one to wait for the next bus which arrives in an hour and bear the inconvenience of waiting further in the busy rush hour corner. I could've but I didn't. And it f*ckin pained me as I saw her through my window almost teary eyed as she argued off with the driver for having given the seat that was rightfully hers to the 2 people behind her. As she was picking up her luggage from below the bus and as the bus slowly headed out, I could not look. I was a bit ashamed of myself. Ashamed of the city I've considered home for almost 3 years now. This couldn't possible be happening. Not especially on a Good Friday.

But the bus waits for no one.

Few minutes heading out, the conductor starts collecting the tickets. I give mine. My seatmate hands hers.
"9 o clock?!" conductor asks.The fucker has tickets for a bus that leaves at a later time. She has absolutely no right to be sitting here.
She gives her stupid, "I called in" explanation which the conductor eventually bought; or just didn't even listen to. She was after all already in the bus and no longer a benefit to anyone for kicking her out.

She's peacefully asleep now. God, grant me the patience through this 4 hour trip. You don't know how tempted I am to drive this pen down this fuckin' insensitive woman's open mouth.

Exactly 6:30 now. Please don't make my non-NYer acquaintance miss her bus again. She badly needs the escape.

EXIT 8. HIGHTSTOWN. FREEHOLD. That's what the sign says. Don't know exactly where we are. I guess this no longer is New York.

You are now leaving New York. It's OK to be human now.

I hope sharing this experience is penance enough for the evil thoughts and sin of omission.