Pay It Forward
My roommate and I were vegging on the couch Saturday night when this life insurance commercial came on -- surely you've seen it; it shows a dozen or so instances of strangers on the street "paying it forward." They see someone do something nice for someone else, and then return the favor to another complete stranger later on. I'll admit, without shame, that it was really inspiring. Monica and I found ourselves tearing up, and at the end of the commercial we turned to each other in awe. What a shame this beautiful TV spot was SELLING something, besides kindness.
So Sunday afternoon found me downtown in the Village with my rugby teammates, absorbing the Gay Pride Parade. My teammates told me I could be "gay for a day," so I gamely wore a rainbow leia and clapped enthusiastically at the passing floats, trannies and half nekked individuals that were also braving the rain. At some point, as we were leaving Bar #2 for Bar #3, I split from the group and ducked into a Starbucks looking for a latte and a clean bathroom. I was pleased to see only one young man waiting in line, so I hurriedly paid for my drink and took my place behind him.
And waited.
And waited.
From within the bathroom, we hear the high-pitched twittering of two girls sharing the bathroom. Then the occasional flush, splash of water, and more laughter.
The poor guy in front of me is hopping from one leg to the other and literally shaking in his need to go. Unable to help myself, I turn on The Pesce Charm.
"Gotta go?" I ask him, brilliantly.
He nods his head.
"There's two people in there?"
Nod.
"Girls?"
A grimace, and a nod.
I shake my head. "I'd just like to apologize on behalf of my gender," I say, and he cracks up.
"You'd be even sorrier if you knew how long I've been waiting here!" he adds. I DO feel sorry - I've been waiting here 10 minutes as is. He was here before I arrived.
A little old lady shuffles in line behind me, and two men and a woman behind her. So there's soon a queue of seven waiting for the two girls talking and laughing and having a jolly old time in the bathroom. The atmosphere OUTSIDE of the bathroom is murderous.
Finally the door swings open, and these two girls come out laughing - and then eye all of us glaring at them.
"Sorry!" they squeak as the boy in front of me shoves past them and dives through the bathroom door. I just scowl as they slink past. They're not even DRUNK, I think irritably.
So I turn to the old lady behind me, and see that she is shifting impatiently from one leg to the other. I don't actually have to go THAT badly.
I look at this little old lady ... and I remember the commercial.
"You can go ahead of me," I tell her. "I don't have to go that bad."
Her face positively beams. "OH!" she exclaims. "THAT'S SO NICE!" I'm blushing, surprised at the outpouring of emotion. "I'm just worried," she says, "because my dog is waiting for me outside."
"Oh, then go ahead!" I tell her, and her face is all pink and happy. She roots around in her purse and pulls out ... a treat. "Here!" she says. "Take a strawberry candy!" Bemused, I find myself accepting a wrapped piece of sucking candy and tucking it inside my purse. Behind me the door opens, and out steps the boy, looking seriously relieved. All that waiting, and he was in there maybe 20 seconds.
"You're fast!" the old broad tells him. "And YOU'RE nice!" she says, pointing at me. She goes into the bathroom, and I'm left to survey the line of people still waiting behind me. They look just as amused.
The biddy pops out of the bathroom a short time later. Ironically, in the interim I'd suddenly realized I really DID need to go to the bathroom, so when my new older friend re-emerges, I'm doing the Pee Pee Dance with the rest of the line.
"Here!" she says, and gives me another candy. I can't help but laugh as I take it. She grabs ahold of my arm and asks for my name. When I tell her it's "Nicole" she gushes that it's beautiful. "Do you live around here?" she asks. "I'd sure love to see you again!"
"I'm sorry," I tell her. "I wish I did! But I'm up-uptown."
"Well it was very lovely to meet you. You have a wonderful personality," she tells me, and then shows me a picture of Frank Sinatra she has clipped to her wallet (she once saw him on the street in Times Square and snapped a photo) and then goes on her merry way.
It's funny how something so small can completely change somebody's mood. It was still raining outside when I left Starbucks, but the day had never seemed brighter.
So Sunday afternoon found me downtown in the Village with my rugby teammates, absorbing the Gay Pride Parade. My teammates told me I could be "gay for a day," so I gamely wore a rainbow leia and clapped enthusiastically at the passing floats, trannies and half nekked individuals that were also braving the rain. At some point, as we were leaving Bar #2 for Bar #3, I split from the group and ducked into a Starbucks looking for a latte and a clean bathroom. I was pleased to see only one young man waiting in line, so I hurriedly paid for my drink and took my place behind him.
And waited.
And waited.
From within the bathroom, we hear the high-pitched twittering of two girls sharing the bathroom. Then the occasional flush, splash of water, and more laughter.
Sidenote: I HATE HATE HATE when women tie up the bathroom in this way. We can only drop the excuse "it takes us longer to go because we have to sit" for so long - some women just inexcusably take their sweet time, and then remain in the bathroom primping. I'm sorry, but when there is limited bathroom space, YOU CAN NOT DO THAT! Do your business and leave. PLEASE. Endnote.
The poor guy in front of me is hopping from one leg to the other and literally shaking in his need to go. Unable to help myself, I turn on The Pesce Charm.
"Gotta go?" I ask him, brilliantly.
He nods his head.
"There's two people in there?"
Nod.
"Girls?"
A grimace, and a nod.
I shake my head. "I'd just like to apologize on behalf of my gender," I say, and he cracks up.
"You'd be even sorrier if you knew how long I've been waiting here!" he adds. I DO feel sorry - I've been waiting here 10 minutes as is. He was here before I arrived.
A little old lady shuffles in line behind me, and two men and a woman behind her. So there's soon a queue of seven waiting for the two girls talking and laughing and having a jolly old time in the bathroom. The atmosphere OUTSIDE of the bathroom is murderous.
Finally the door swings open, and these two girls come out laughing - and then eye all of us glaring at them.
"Sorry!" they squeak as the boy in front of me shoves past them and dives through the bathroom door. I just scowl as they slink past. They're not even DRUNK, I think irritably.
So I turn to the old lady behind me, and see that she is shifting impatiently from one leg to the other. I don't actually have to go THAT badly.
I look at this little old lady ... and I remember the commercial.
"You can go ahead of me," I tell her. "I don't have to go that bad."
Her face positively beams. "OH!" she exclaims. "THAT'S SO NICE!" I'm blushing, surprised at the outpouring of emotion. "I'm just worried," she says, "because my dog is waiting for me outside."
"Oh, then go ahead!" I tell her, and her face is all pink and happy. She roots around in her purse and pulls out ... a treat. "Here!" she says. "Take a strawberry candy!" Bemused, I find myself accepting a wrapped piece of sucking candy and tucking it inside my purse. Behind me the door opens, and out steps the boy, looking seriously relieved. All that waiting, and he was in there maybe 20 seconds.
"You're fast!" the old broad tells him. "And YOU'RE nice!" she says, pointing at me. She goes into the bathroom, and I'm left to survey the line of people still waiting behind me. They look just as amused.
The biddy pops out of the bathroom a short time later. Ironically, in the interim I'd suddenly realized I really DID need to go to the bathroom, so when my new older friend re-emerges, I'm doing the Pee Pee Dance with the rest of the line.
"Here!" she says, and gives me another candy. I can't help but laugh as I take it. She grabs ahold of my arm and asks for my name. When I tell her it's "Nicole" she gushes that it's beautiful. "Do you live around here?" she asks. "I'd sure love to see you again!"
"I'm sorry," I tell her. "I wish I did! But I'm up-uptown."
"Well it was very lovely to meet you. You have a wonderful personality," she tells me, and then shows me a picture of Frank Sinatra she has clipped to her wallet (she once saw him on the street in Times Square and snapped a photo) and then goes on her merry way.
It's funny how something so small can completely change somebody's mood. It was still raining outside when I left Starbucks, but the day had never seemed brighter.
posted by Nicole Pesce | 6/27/2006 08:56:00 AM
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