Taking it a stop at a time

I’ll be honest, not much really happened today on Metro; it was actually kind of weird not having to deal with anything too odd; I mean, there were people that were interesting-looking, but nothing to get excited over a post about.

Instead, I wanna talk about what it was I was originally gonna write about last night, but obviously that last post was more for comic relief. This one is a little more touchy and serious, so bear with me.

All right, so I’m at Union Station had just gotten off Gold Line and was headed to Red Line. I’m over here walking, not minding much since I’m usually pretty tired on Tuesday and Thursday nights, and I glance a little ahead of me and there’s these two little kids walking around in the terminal area (or that tunnel that goes across to all the Metrolink and Amtrack platforms).

Anyway, I really don’t like throwing myself into things that are none of my business, but retarded me goes up to the little kids…

“Hey, are you lost, little guy?”

The little man was pushing a little baby cart and he was guiding his little sister along, who was crying a lot. This kid could not have been much older than my sister.

My sister is nine.

So his little sister is crying and I can make out her saying something about her mom. So me the ever clueless idiot, ask him:

“Hey, where your folks at?”

“I don’t know, my mom said she’d be back.”

One of the most frightening things when you’re little is not knowing where your mom is. Of all the people, not having your mom around can be one of the most unnerving things you can ever deal with, especially when you’re just a little kid. And then there’s this little kid; can count his age on my fingers and he’s trying to stay cool. You can tell when a kid is scared, he was scared just as much as his little sister, but he didn’t do anything physically that would’ve shown that. But the sound of his voice when he answered me and the shimmering eyes scream it out to you. And this feeling in me drops like an anchor in my fucking heart, through my stomach and everything. He didn’t know what to do and he looked hopelessly lost as to what to do next.

Maybe I sound a little melodramatic here, but when you’ve been on both sides of not being able to find someone at that age, it’s not like you’re supposed to say “OH, OKAY, EVERYTHING IS FINE” cuz it sure as hell isn’t.

I found a police officer there and told him what’s their deal and he went off to take care of it and took the kids with them. Kids are innocent, man.

Maybe it’s not an incredibly interesting story, but it’s one of those things that hits you real hard; a cold, harsh taste of reality. We constantly living that bad things won’t happen to us, that it’ll simply happen to them. That if there’s a shoot-out, we won’t get hurt, but the other people will. That somehow, we hide in this little fantasy and we are exempt from these things. These little kids are probably homeless with their mom or dad (their clothes are enough to verify the homelessness).

I don’t know, but I’ve seen this before, and it never fails to bug the fuck out of me and make me think long and hard about everything. And when I try doing something for the random person on the bus or rail, it ain’t because you would do the same; I do it because people won’t do; they’ll just stare and judge. Don’t wait for someone else; take that initiative, you’ll make that person’s day and they won’t forget. It’s really how it works, cuz that’s all they got to hold on to besides the clothes on their backs and the shoes on their feet.

——-

Sorry for going off on a HUGE tangent. Just wanted to make a meaningful post. The funny and odd stories are always there, but these are around, too. Sorry if it’s hard to follow, not gonna read it again. Be nice, guys.
And thank you for your anonymous messages on this page. If you have a story you wanna talk about from Metro or have some advice for me, go on ahead and message away. Smiley face.

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