We are a baseball family. We love the Mets and often head over to Queens to see them play. For years, Adam and I went without the kids but as the girls are getting older they also want to come to games. When we had an opportunity for just the two of us to go to the game – we took full advantage. And by that I mean, we took the train so that we could get fall-down drunk while we ate hot dogs and soft pretzels and watched the boys play. The game was a little slow and so we created and played a drinking game that had us chugging or swigging based on what the player was doing or what play was made. A strike out - take three swigs, a walk – take one giant swig, a pop-up – chug for 10 seconds, a home run – finish your beer. Get it? These were just a few of the rules and by the time the game ended, I had no idea who won or what stretching I may have done for the 7th inning. Adam told me I was trying to show him how I could do a backbend using the handrails of my seat. I asked him how it looked – he told me not very good. Whoops! But as you may gather, when a curvy, 40-something-year-old believes that it is acceptable to do gymnastics in public – that 40-something-year-old is drunk. And so was Adam which made it a very good idea that we had taken the rail. Flashforward to the point where we are running through Penn Station to get our train to Jersey. Of course, thanks to “breaking my seal” around the 4th inning, I had to go to the bathroom before we headed home. I ran to the toilet and got ready to do my thing when I heard a person crying in the stall next to me. I peeked under the divider and saw two, old, bare feet and a number of tattered nylon and plastic shopping bags. It was clearly a homeless woman. Once I finished, I walked over to her door and lightly knocked on it – she stopped crying to say “yes?”.
“Hi. Um, are you okay”, I asked her.
“I’m fine.”
I have no idea why I asked this next question, but I’m blaming Miller Lite.
“Does your family know where you are?”
“My children live on the other side of the country” she responded sadly.
“Oh. I’m sorry. Do they know you are here like this?”
“No they don’t. Hey honey, do you have any money to spare?”
And the truth is, I didn’t in this day and age of debit cards and in being married to Adam who does not like me to have extra cash that I will use on something he thinks is stupid (like wine or clothes or shoes or makeup…).
“I’m sorry, I really don’t have any”, I told her.
Then I had a brilliant idea as I reached into my sweatshirt pouch and pulled out a bag of peanuts that I had left over from the game. I took them out and got on my hands and knees on the floor in front of her stall.
“You can have these, if you’d like”, I offered and I slid the bag under her door.
Just as her hand was reaching down to take the peanuts – I quickly yanked the bag of nuts back in my direction like it was “Hungry, Hungry Hippo” game play.
“Wait!” I said with a hint of panic “You don’t have a nut allergy, do you?”
Long pause.
“Honey….that is the least of my problems.”
Fair enough. And I slid the bag back under the door.
“Hi. Um, are you okay”, I asked her.
“I’m fine.”
I have no idea why I asked this next question, but I’m blaming Miller Lite.
“Does your family know where you are?”
“My children live on the other side of the country” she responded sadly.
“Oh. I’m sorry. Do they know you are here like this?”
“No they don’t. Hey honey, do you have any money to spare?”
And the truth is, I didn’t in this day and age of debit cards and in being married to Adam who does not like me to have extra cash that I will use on something he thinks is stupid (like wine or clothes or shoes or makeup…).
“I’m sorry, I really don’t have any”, I told her.
Then I had a brilliant idea as I reached into my sweatshirt pouch and pulled out a bag of peanuts that I had left over from the game. I took them out and got on my hands and knees on the floor in front of her stall.
“You can have these, if you’d like”, I offered and I slid the bag under her door.
Just as her hand was reaching down to take the peanuts – I quickly yanked the bag of nuts back in my direction like it was “Hungry, Hungry Hippo” game play.
“Wait!” I said with a hint of panic “You don’t have a nut allergy, do you?”
Long pause.
“Honey….that is the least of my problems.”
Fair enough. And I slid the bag back under the door.