the title will make more sense later. tonight, i was supposed to be working, but since i missed a connection and my bus to pasadena ran late with all the traffic on los feliz, the back-up is working the shift and i got to go home. i didn't mind it all that much since i have a shift for tomorrow morning and my last experience at the cal tech athenaeum was less than pleasant. as it happened, the back-up wanted to switch places, but it was a done deal.
so i had a nice walk through pasadena past the city college and down the strip of colorado blvd. between hill and lake. i remember thinking that i should have just taken the gold line and walked the rest of the way, because it would have been much quicker. little did i know that this ride on the seemingly peaceful gold line would turn out to be the most dangerous one i have ever taken on public transport.
[an aside: i use public transportation. even when i had a car i would sometimes ride it anyway, particularly into parts of the city that are notoriously difficult to park in. as a child, i rode the bus to and from school and my grandmother and i would take the bus anywhere we wanted to go. my grandmother never learned to drive and even though i got my first driving lesson when i was seven and actually started driving when i was twelve, i lacked the license that would allow me to do that in my grandmother's presence. but truly, we just kind of enjoyed the ride and would take the bus for the sheer pleasure of it. nowadays, i take the buses and trains of the mta all over the larger metropolitan area that is los angeles and destinations even further. you'd be surprised just how far you can go.]
i always get questions when i tell people that i do ride the mta. many people act like it isn't safe, particularly at night. now what you should know is that nothing ever stops me from going exactly where i please when i please. i don't usually have problems no matter where i am and what time of day or night it is. i really don't have the choice right now to do it any differently and i am not under the illusion that broad daylight in beverly hills can be any less dangerous than east los at midnight. the truth is that bad things happen everywhere at any time. you really aren't "safe", not even in your own home. i know of a casting director who was robbed at gunpoint in his secure parking structure and an agent who was the victim of a home invasion robbery, both lived in so-called "good areas". i am lucky enough to have had very little trouble in my wanderings in el lay, nueva york, and new orleans. there have only been a few times when i have felt threatened while out alone at night. what happened this evening took place around 5:30 p.m. which goes back to undeniable fact that the boogeymen don't wait until midnight to come out and play.
i was reading and the train came to a stop at the del mar station. the door opened and i just felt bad.
[note: i am pretty sensitive to strong emotions that other people are feeling. one person held that i breathed "valium fumes:" that calmed her down, but it was actually my capacity as an emotional shock absorber that really was the thing that made her feel better. i can and will maintain a calm that makes the difference with people. the upside is that i can feel heavy vibes immediately and prepare myself for conflict, if necessary, so it comes in pretty handy. the bad side is that those feelings are not something you really want to become familiar with if you can avoid it..]
in walks a lanky man who immediately starts cursing at the entire car full of people. because of where i was sitting he actually entered behind me and when i looked up to see what the matter was, i looked him directly in the face. not a good idea, as it turns out.
he was clearly homeless, definitely higher than a kite, and most likely insane. he was carrying a clear plastic bag that held clothing. thin as a rail, his mouth spewed out an unending stream of vituperative abuse and threats. he sat down for a moment, but sprang up seconds later and continued raving. i honestly couldn't tell you what was saying, because i was too busy trying to figure out what the hell i was going to do.
you see, i had attracted his attention. his intent was clearly to pick a fight with someone. since i looked at him, i won the prize; a first class trip to nutville and probably a rendezvous with his fist.
son of a bitch.
he starts pacing back and forth and keeps chanting something about "yeah, you look at me, whaddya gonna do? i'm from fucking chicago, man." there was a threat of bodily harm in that monologue, but i was more concerned with whether or not he had worked himself up enough to physically attack me yet. he was standing less than four feet away. while trying to accomplish the simultaneous feat of making myself seem disinterested but still keeping an eye on him, i was considering my options.
the verbal diarrhea continued, "motherfucker this, i'm gonna fuck you up that" when a wonderous thing happened.
the car that i was in contained about fifteen people. most of them were playing a quick game of "let's ignore the elephant in the room" while i was contemplating how much damage my plastic backback that had a couple of water bottles in it might do. to my surprise, there were rumblings coming from up front. turns out everyone on this train wasn't numb and cowardly after all.
my usual feeling about people is that most of the time, they will sit around and watch someone use your guts for garters to avoid trouble. while thinking of what i might say in this blog entry the case of kitty genovese sprang immediately to mind, but while reading her wikipedia entry, i discovered a couple of social concepts that i had heretofore been innocent of.
civil courage and its opposite,
the bystander effect.
[just in case you don't know, this was
kitty genovese.] not that i think that what happened to her and what happened to me are the same, but for a few minutes there i thought i was alone in a car full of people with someone who meant me harm. once i figured i had nothing to lose i looked at the guy's clothing and person to try and determine if he had any type of weapons, to at least be prepared.
thank goodness, just this once, i wasn't on my own. like i said, most everyone in the car was pretending that everything was just fine and that a raving loony was not approaching the peak of frenzy just a few feet away. this is when the near miracle happened: one man towards the front of the car stood up and called the nutbag out. he told him to shut his mouth and that there were children in the car and he didn't appreciate either his language or his violent behavior. this was met by even more rabid foaming from this psycho. the man then stood up and closed the distance between him and the intruder to more firmly impress his words and his willingness to back them up on bachelor number 666. the woman who was sitting in front of him voiced a warning, but the man took off his jacket and moved even closer when the the stream of abuse didn't slacken. suddenly, i noticed another younger man had walked up in support of the man, who was wearing an army sweatshirt. the man remarked, "hey brother, you got my back?" the younger man, who was little more than a teenager nodded, "yes", and stood relaxed but ready.
the genius kept running his mouth and the man in the army shirt said, "i think it is time for you to get off this train". the reply was something along the lines of "who's gonna make me leave?", just with lots more foul language and making as much sense as your average letter from the local wig ward.. the man in the army sweatshirt said, "there's two of us". another teenager, who was female piped up and said, "no, there's three of us". guess who was number four.
as a train came to a stop at what i think was the fillmore station and the loony started to realize that it wasn't quite the easy pickings he thought it would be, he started to get quieter and quieter and start making gestures and noises of placation, as near as he could manage. but it was a little too late for that and he wasn't very sincere anyway.
the doors opened and the moment of truth arrived. it took all four of us and he didn't go quietly. pulling him did very little good and there was a limited amount of time in which to accomplish his "exit". sweatshirt man started pulling and threw his bag out the door. me and the teenage guy were pushing him but he quickly fell to the floor to make things more difficult. he actually grabbed my leg and did his best to pull me out with him. i had to punch him to make him let go, because he had vicious grip on me. that was pretty ugly, as i don't like being touched by people with that type of crazy all over them.
finally, we managed to push/pull him out and the doors closed. what really bothered me is that we had inadvertently made him someone else's problem, but what else could we have done?
then the discussion began: should we make a report. would it do any good? of course, many of the people who had done nothing took that moment to add their two cents. thanks, guys. i realized that there was an intercom system, but the one person who had been even closer to the nutter than me - she had shared the seat he briefly occupied, but he didn't even look in her direction while she did her best impression of an inanimate object, looked coldly at me and sniped, "it's a little late for that now."
human nature is a wonderful thing.
i thanked the man in the army shirt, the teenager had already disappeared back into the second car, and i wondered why there would be any question of reporting this to the authorities. i wondered why the woman who reproved me hadn't hit the intercom herself when she was
sitting right next to it and why she had the nerve to say such a thing to me as if it were my fault.
as i tried to reconcile all that had happened, i felt a stare from across the car. the very same woman who had tried to make me feel bad was looking at me with pure contempt. when i returned her stare, she looked away.
mea culpa.
having been in situations like this before, i tend to keep my cool. i figure there is plenty of time to be scared later. i got a wave and gave another thanks to army sweatshirt dude as he and his child got off at the next station. while walking through union station, i saw the teenager. i shook his hand and thanked him too. i wandered around looking an authority and found none. failing that, i walked to the red line and luckily the north hollywood train had just pulled up. this being the first stop, the train was actually stopped for a change in conductors.as i saw the new conductor walking to the train, i stopped him and asked for help. i told him my story and not only did he instruct me on the proper usage of the emergency intercom system, he directed me to three sheriffs deputies who were nearby.
when i told the deputies what had happened, they immediately recognized the man and his behavior. they promised to call it in and went on to the next car. that was when i finally got to sit down and feel something.
[a backtrack: turns out that the intercom woman wasn't the only person who blamed me. as i stood in the crowd, waiting for the train to hit union station, two women who had witnessed everything that happened, it was so loud only someone who was deaf and blind could have missed it, looked at me disapprovingly. yes, i am a bad person.]
as the red line pulled out of union, i started to feel nauseated, like i might throw up. delayed nervous reaction i guess or maybe it had more to do with the people who were willing to sit there and watch me get my face pounded in and then had the temerity to act like i had caused the problem. maybe they thought the man who started this all was treated badly. i don't know.
wrong is right to some people, but i can say that my weird and unquenchable hope that someone might be willing to help a stranger has been fufilled at last. even better, the longing that i have to be protected and supported as i rarely was as a child has also been partially put to rest; at least for now.
now that is something to be happy about.
