This morning I had the pleasure of visiting some of the finer government offices here in Miami. The entire story is another post for another day. Like many downtown areas, parking is a bitch. Even though it meant I would have to backtrack almost all the way home after my appointment before heading out to work, I figured it would be worth it to take public transportation, ie the Metrorail, not to have to promise my next child, an arm and the title to my car to the parking attendant.
Despite this wonderfully wonderful climate, people here are still pissy 24/7. But of course they are, they still have to go to work unlike the tons of people I see scamper past our building on a daily basis (I work on South Beach). The ride into downtwn was uneventful, meaning, thankfully, no one tried to strike up a conversation. I handled my business in a manner befitting a single mom who is completely fed up with the system and wonders why said system makes it so difficult to track down a deadbeat dad. (Thank goodness for loving and supportive boyfriend.)
As I was standing on the platform waiting for train number 2 to get back to my car, I noticed an older gentleman in an electric wheelchair. It’s possible that he was paralyzed from the neck down, but I didn’t ask. I stepped onto the train while keeping an eye on him. He seemed to be waiting for the crowd to clear before attempting to board. When the time finally approached for him to get on the train, he started moving forward but he got stuck. You’d think that train stations would be a little better designed, but they aren’t and so stuck he was. (His front tire had turned sideways and was stuck in the gap between the platform and the train.) At that moment, I held my phone in one hand, briefcase in the other. It only took a split second to realize that of this train full of people, more than 60 percent male, no one was going to help. God bless Miami.
After cupping my phone ear to shoulder and slinging my briefcase over the other shoulder, I got behind his chair and tried to get him on the train. Those chairs are heavy. Way heavier than I imagined. Or I’m weak. Way weaker than I used to be. Either way, I had damn near thrown out my back and blew out a knee (note to self, don’t try it in heels next time) before any of the lazy bastards on the train got up to help me. It’s amazing how people have no respect for others. I wonder how much longer he would have been stuck if I hadn’t helped. It’s scary here.
This post has no end.