Stranger Fears

Filed Under class, love, spiritual practice

Earlier this week:

When I sat next to him I noticed he had a can of Coke between his legs, and in his hand was a paper bag. It was 6 o’clock in the afternoon and already he smelled like whiskey. I felt a little uneasy. Few things make me more nervous than a strange, drunken man. But we were on a crowded bus, in the broad daylight, so what could happen?

For a few minutes we were both silent. I was listening to an iPod Nano, which hung from its lanyard around my neck. From the corner of my eye, I could see him take quick peeks at me. I thought to myself, “Oh boy, what’s his problem?” Then - suddenly - he was speaking to me. I looked at him and he repeated what he’d said. “Is that an iPod?” I nodded. “Do you think maybe I could listen to it? I’ve never heard one of those before.” I blinked at him a few times. My first thought was that sharing earplugs with a total stranger was unsanitary. My response, however, was baffling: “But the earplugs are in my ears.”

He said softly, “Oh, okay. Some other time then, that’s cool.” I nodded. Then I realized how foolish my words must have sounded to him. “But the earplugs are in my ears”? How could he possibly interpret that? The bus continued to move. My head felt like it was burning. He seemed polite, but he was taking another swig of his whiskey and following it up with a sip of Coke right on a public bus! He was clean, around my age, fairly attractive and his clothes were in good repair - but surely he was some kind of alcoholic? He’d turned himself slightly to look out the window, and I’d felt his body tense up. He still looked over at the Nano occasionally.

A hundred thoughts passed through my mind. Was he angry? Was I being a totally defensive so-called “middle-class” snob? Was I being classist in this moment? Was I more suspicious of him because he was white? Was he trying to make trouble with me? What if he yanked the Nano off of my neck? What if he was just released on parole and had anger problems and I was just one more person rejecting him for no apparently good reason and he would throttle me on a crowded bus because he just couldn’t take it anymore? What if I let him listen to my iPod and he tossed it out the window? What recourse would I have? Wouldn’t I be laughed at if I talked to him, and he ended up doing something bad to me? Would it be my fault for being naive? What would Jesus do? What would Muhammad do? What would my mother do? Goddammit, I shouldn’t feel guilty or question myself because I didn’t want to engage in conversation with this STRANGER. He could be ANYBODY! But what if he was just a nice person attempting to connect with another nice person on a bus? Maybe he just wasn’t socialized enough to know this wasn’t normal behavior in big cities. What if I was part of the problem of lovelessness and unfriendliness that we keep talking about in this country? How UU to torture myself in this way; I should just ignore him. Who did he think he was, bothering me?! No one would think I was wrong for not giving him the time of day. But … what if I were a missionary - and my message was love? How could I preach love if I didn’t even talk to him? If I really had a message to give him, I’d have to talk to him first. What if I’ve hurt his feelings? What if he’s just a predator taking advantage of women’s tendencies to want to please others? What if he is feeling sad because I gave him a stupid response to a genuine question? Will he remember this?

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. My face felt so hot I thought it would burst into ash. As we got nearer to my house, I took the iPod off and tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m getting off the bus soon, if you want to take a listen.” I held the iPod out to him. He put his whiskey bag between his legs along with the Coke, and said, “Really? Are you serious?” I said, “Sure; I’m getting off the bus soon, though.” He was really appreciative. I watched him put one of the plugs into his ear and he listened to India Arie’s remix of I Am Not My Hair. He started moving to the music. “Oh man, this is great.” I showed him how to forward to the next song. It was Nina Simone. “Oh, man,” he said again, swaying his head. After a minute or two, he returned the Nano to me. “Wow, thanks so much. I’ve been reading about these things for years, but never listened to one before. I wanted to know how they sounded.”

We chatted for a while. He told me that for the past few years he’d been really poor, but now he had some income coming in, and he was going to get himself a car. He was really excited. We talked about iPods. He used to subscribe to Car and Driver. He recently got through a rough time, and things were getting better. When the bus arrived at my stop, I took my leave of him with my usual, “Enjoy the rest of your day.” He said, “Hey, thanks. You too - this was beautiful.”

I felt relieved and proud of myself for a few minutes. Although, to be honest, the deciding factor was that I realized I could just disinfect the earplug when I got home. But by the time I reached my front door I’d forgotten the whole thing - including the disinfection; it wasn’t till this morning that the event came back to me.

Comments

6 Responses to “Stranger Fears”

Samawel on July 13th, 2006 12:53 pm

To be honest, I’m sure a lot of us would think the same way as you did at the time.

It’s alright to feel somewhat guilty about it in retrospect.

I guess experiences such as these make us aware of our own flaws, as human as we are.
CK on July 13th, 2006 1:17 pm

Great story. I wonder if he was having an internal dialogue about his asking you about the iPod?

Samawel is right, we all struggle with how to respond to strangers. Balancing the reality of being a woman and protecting your safety with the desire for showing hospitality is tough. You did admirably, it sounds like.
Matt on July 13th, 2006 2:41 pm

I would have had the same internal conflict had I been in that situation.

And to be honest, because I am approached daily here in Liverpool by all sorts of people begging and asking for things (the city has a growing underclass and some of the worst poverty in Europe) - you grow quite cynical and hardened to it.

In many ways you grow quite insular and isolated from the average person on the street because there are so many people, who are dressed nicely etc, yet tapping people for bus fare, or train tickets etc

There is one man who I have seen begging and drinking over the last six years, he was very aggressive with people shouting abuse at them etc when they refused to give him money. He always walked with a crutch and a bandaged foot. Anyway, the other week I saw him slumped in a wheelchair, clean shaven, nice new clothes but with only one leg. I was really shocked by this - although he was aggressive and abusive, it seemed now his passion & energy had gone, he was slumped there just gazing into thin air. I don’t know what I think about this other than shock and sadness.
LaReinaCobre on July 13th, 2006 6:03 pm

Samawel,
Yes, I think that’s probably true - that such experiences remind us of our own flaws. I’m trying to get to the point where I view more and more things as opportunities to challenge myself or do things I didn’t think were possible. I am so far away from really treating life that way, but it’s a goal. Some people would think nothing of sharing their iPod with a stranger on a bus. The borders we each need to cross are so personal.

CK,
I too wondered about his internal dialogue! I’ll never know, I suppose.

Matt,
People are so interesting. Sometimes I feel so compelled to put people into types - trying to extrapolate everything about them based on several actions, but the truth is that we don’t know.

Thanks for sharing the story about the yelling man with the bandaged foot. Something about that really touched me. Maybe it’s the awareness that he has his own story. I’ve always been interested in experiences, literature and art that hint at all the things we do not know about a person.

In my mind, that is where humanity lies. I don’t feel like I even need to know more about some people; it’s enough to be reminded that their lives are central to them in the same way my life is central to me. I don’t mind when we can connect as people, but I have a great deal of respect for that space of unknowability between all of us.
Ravenmn on July 19th, 2006 9:29 pm

I came here via a post Nio made at her blog.

The thing that strikes me most about your post is how ignorant you were with regard to this man. You post a series of questions for which you had no clear answers.

One option you have is to become more familiar with him and people like him. You can spend time at a homeless shelter, vist a drunk tank or volunteer at the Salvation Army. You can learn how people like this man survive in the world today. You can get to know them better and be better prepared the next time you encounter them.

None of this is particular difficult or time consuming. It just might answer all those questions you raised.
LaReinaCobre on July 20th, 2006 8:20 pm

Ravenm,
Thanks for your thoughts. I think what you say is true. What’s interesting for me is that I grew up in a blue collar family. We were not even middle class. People like this fellow are not new to me; it was strange to feel so apart from him. I don’t know when this happened? Sometimes the feeling of separation is not there, though. What causes it to be appear/disappear?

The drunk tank is a good idea. I’ve always been wary of drunken men because of the teachings from my childhood (absolutely NO ALCOHOL EVER). Visiting one and spending some time with the folks who utilize it would likely help me hone my assessment skills, so that I don’t apply a blanket prejudice.