Bus stories
Three times in the past month, I've landed on the bus next to somebody who wound up crying. And I never know how to handle the situation, or seem to handle it correctly. Once was a young woman, maybe late 20s, who was clearly in the middle of a nasty breakup -- her cell kept ringing, and she kept answering and saying things like, 'It hurts too much to talk to you anymore.' Another girl, this time maybe 23 or 24, got on crying and just happened to sit down next to me. Then there was the elderly lady who just burst into tears for no reason. All three times, I asked if they needed anything. In one case, I even had a tissue to offer up. (A tissue? My hero!) But what is the appropriate response to mass transit weeping? Anyone? Most of my busmates seemed to think averting their eyes was the answer.
And yet, Portland busgoers still step up when need me. Last week, my bus got stopped in the middle of a bridge behind a stalled car. We sat for about 15 minutes, until the driver finally radioed in to his supervisor, who suggested just pushing the car to the other side of the bridge and out of the way. That's exactly what we -- or rather, a collection of large men who were not carrying little Girl's -- did. The boys came back, we gave them a nice ovation, and we went right on our merry way. It was one of those nice little Portland moments: This is a big enough town to have busses that people actually ride and bridges to go over, but not big enough to let a little thing like a stalled car actually slow traffic down.
Imagine the George Washington Bridge in a similiar scenario.
posted by AnnaRay at 1:52 PM
10 Comments:
You just look like a comfortable person to cry with. That's a good thing. GWB? They would attempt to push you off. Mom
I've had just one such in the last six months -- 6 a.m. on the shuttle from my hotel to the airport. We were still sitting at the hotel, and I noticed that the woman next to me was crying softly. So I went into the hotel and asked the manager if he had some tissues. He gave me a whole box. I handed it to the woman without saying anything, but with what I hoped was a kind (and not presumptious, condescending, or voyeuristic) smile. She said "thanks." I said, "we all need them, sometimes. The manager said he didn't need the box back." And that was that.
I think that on future bus rides, it might be nice to say, "excuse me -- I don't mean to intrude. But if there's something I can do for you, let me know." Then smile and look away. They'll know they'll be let alone if they want, but that they're not alone.
Until you need them to move a car off the bridge -- then you're free to interrupt all you want.
Once, in Rome, after a nasty fight with an (deleted) ex-boyfriend, I was bawling my 21-year-old eyes out. BTW, I would not be that age again for love or money, or even the tiny waist I had back then. Too much drama. If that fight were to happen today, I would have left his dumb ass at the train station without saying good-bye, and I would have hopped onto a train going where he was not. Anyway,I sat in the bathroom blubbering like an idiot, and three nice ladies brought me candy, tissues and one even offered to go get me some ice cream. They were like matronly guardian angels. My Italian was limited, as was their English, but it was one of those moments where words would have been superfluous anyway. Maybe one day I can be the lady with the tissues.
Or maybe it just sounded better in Italian. Most things do.
That NW bus standoffishness can be weird. One of the guys from Blue Scholars sings about that (and other things) in this gorgeous video about riding Metro in Seattle: http://youtube.com/watch?v=Wz79goWQrYU
That said, there's something to be said for the wordless offer of tissues. A few years back, in the middle of a months-long stressful family situation, I got a speeding ticket. Went downtown to the courthouse to try to mediate it, and the magistrate was really mean to me. I held it together long enough to get to a stall in the ladies' room, where I burst into tears. A well-meaning person asked if I was OK, and I stopped and reassured her that I was. While I appreciated her kindness -- and probably would have done the same thing if I heard someone boohooing in the next stall -- in that moment I just wanted to get my cry on, uninterrupted.
What would be the difference if it was a guy crying on the bus? Would that be a little creepy?
Wow. That's a great question.
I say, yes, creepy. ALthough I feel like a bad person for responding that way.
The socialization of males not to cry is really intense: I'm sure I've had fewer than five or so protracted cries since becoming an adolescent. And none was in a location not of my choosing. So seeing a man crying in public can feel sort of, er, transgressive. He's not naked and hitting you up for change, but he might as well be.
On the other hand, a little tearing-up seems to be A-OK. Good thing, too, since I get all misty over fabric-softener commercials.
I think I would react very differently to a grown man crying as opposed to a young woman. I was a young woman, and I cried a lot, so I know that the tears could be about anything. Men tend to cry less, so I'd probably assume that something cataclysmic has just transpired. It is also one thing to be a grown man who is very upset and crying, and to be "a man who cries." I can't deal with men who have too many visible feelings. Those guys irritate me. Please don't flame me. I come from one of those families, the ones in which the guys, gay, straight and everywhere in-between, are very stoic.
Guys -- if you ever find yourself crying in public, and a concerned person asks if you're OK, just tell them you were thinking about the end of "Field of Dreams." Apparently it's the only acceptable excuse for a man to cry in public.
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