May 20, 2012

• Desperation

  I came out of a sketchy Aldi store off the edge of North Philly, and a white woman, rather heavy with a few bags, approaches me and says, “Hey, can you do me a really huge favor? I’ll pay you money for it! I need a ride to The Towers!” (an apartment complex about a half-mile north of here) My heart is racing, because I’m honestly half-expecting her to pull out pepper spray or a gun as soon as I would pull out the keys for the ignition. She keeps looking at her purse. I say, “I should be able to help with that, sure.” ”Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” she says, as if she were just given a hundred dollars. Stalling a little bit to calm my nerves, I also move some stuff in my car so she can sit down, then I pop the trunk to put my groceries in. “It’s just the black guys. I don’t discriminate, but black guys are just rude and make comments.”

  I sit down, watching as she keeps looking at her purse, now shuffling things around in it. I have my car door still open as I start the engine. She thanks me and asks my name.

  I ask about directions for clarification, ignore her directions and make a better judgment. She exclaims, “You’re right! You’re so smart! Thank you so much! This is such a big help!”

  She then tells me she has a twenty, and asks whether I can break it. I say I can’t, and then console that it is okay, since it isn’t far out of the way. As we go, she makes some off-handed, random comment on wine, and how Jesus drank wine. I agree and confirm that it isn’t wrong. Seriously, it was out of nowhere. (Or so it appeared on the surface.) I acknowledge that I came from a Baptist background, and while several people around me thought alcohol was wrong, Jesus didn’t live that way. She admits she was a Catholic, so they had wine in ceremonies, and she doesn’t think it is wrong. “But because of the crazy stuff going on there, I just have my own religion now, and I live by that. I love God and God loves me. Heh-heh.”

  At this point I made the remark, “But if it is just your own, then why would anyone want to be so lonely? And if it isn’t true, then why believe it?” She sits there, pauses a moment, and says, “what do you mean?” I answer, “What I mean is, your religion is just what you want it to be, and that neither invites someone in, nor does it glorify any noble thing but yourself. It doesn’t heal, and it doesn’t make someone new. It doesn’t change people, it is just an inspirational thought you like.”

  Then she smiles and asks, “So do you have a wife or any kids?” I deny both, saying, “Well, I have a girlfriend, but no kids.” ….”Congratulations! I’m so happy for you! I have a couple kids, and my husband died back in 2003. Ya know, he was just hanging in crime areas and he got killed. Just being around the wrong guys. Drugs, ya know.”

  Stunned, I say, “I… I am sorry.”

  “Well, it was so long ago so I’m alright. Their grandparents take care of them, and I get to see them on weekends.”

  “That’s not easy, that must be hard.”

  “I work a lot, I mean, I’m still in my cleaning clothes from cleaning all day!”

  “I make a left here, yes?”

  “You’re smart! See, you know! Thank you so much! Just pull in here on the left, and then you can do a circle to get back out.” … “Thank you so much, this is such a huge help. It is because of black guys, they just keep making comments as they drive by. I don’t discriminate, but they just do.”

  “Hey, well, it’s no worries. Have a good one.”

  “What was your name again?” She shakes my hand.

  “Jon, and yours?” There is a pause in the handshake… Then she starts shaking some more. ”I didn’t catch it, what was your name?”

  “Uhh, Deanne. Thank you so much, and congratulations on your wife and kids!”

  “Yeah, thanks! Have a good one!” I say.

   

  [the only thing that didn't happen was between the bold statements, a boldness that I didn't express at the time]

  • 2:33 pm
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