On Wednesday last I went to my ancient texts class as usual. Now that it starts at noon, it has burst all restraint and tends to last about five hours. For me it requires a significant amount of psychological preparation merely to face a five-hour long class, but I managed to sit it out this time at least.
An interesting thing happened while I was on my way there, though. I was at the Garfield red line stop, and crossing the street to the bus stop. It's a bit of a sketchy place, so I always extra alert to those around me whenever I pass through there. That's why I noticed three men drinking Monster energy drinks, crossing the street ahead of me. Their movements and physical bearing seemed somehow very violent, though they didn't do anything out of the ordinary. They just seemed... thuggish. Like there was some wild energy in them just on the point of bursting out. I would have been more nervous except that they were a mixed race group, two white men and a black man. For some reason, it's easy to see being mugged by all black men or by all white men, but not by a mixture of the two, not sure why. Also, it was only 11 AM, and there were lots of other people around. Anyway, I kept my eye on them as we all waited for the bus.
When the bus came, it was reasonably crowded. The three men were sitting near the back, and it happened that the only empty seat was in the back too. So I sat there, staring at the window, thinking of nothing. I was tired. I was gearing up for five hours of paleography.
One of the men leaned over and said to me: "Is there a college around here or something?" I owned that there was. He said, "How is it that I just took one look at you and knew there was a college around here somewhere?"
I laughed. He had a kind of rough working class way of talking but I actually got no bad vibe from him, just that odd suppressed energy. I said, "It's probably because I've been in college for half my life."
He nodded, impressed. "It will surely pay off," he said.
"We'll see," I said. "Hasn't yet."
"It will," he said. "I chose not to go to school myself. And now here I am going to the museum when I should be working."
"Is that so?" I said. "Which museum?"
"Science and Industry," he said.
"That's a fun one," I said. "Very hands on. It's not just looking at stuff in cases. There are things for you to do."
"I like that," one of the other guys said. He looked a lot like Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting.
"...So do you guys all work together?" I asked, trying to envision museum-going as--some kind of corporate field-trip?
They laughed in an awkward way. It turned out that they were in AA together. They were going to the museum to "better themselves." To think about things they could do for fun while staying sober. The Monster drinks were, I inferred, to fill part of the psychological need or habit associated with drinking. Like non-nicotine cigarettes when you're trying to quit smoking. The two who were talking seemed slightly defiant (the African-American guy was listening to his I-pod in the corner, totally withdrawn), a thin cover over a world of insecurity. As for me, I felt pleased and satisfied, because now their thuggish energy made perfect sense. You're approaching a potentially hostile world in a whole new way, without the false confidence of your life-destroying addiction. Of course you are wary and hyper-prepared for trouble.
I wasn't sure about the proper things to say in such a situation, but I was extra-motivated to continue the conversation, given that they had gone out on a limb to tell me. So I said something to the effect that I thought what they were doing was great and really hoped it worked out for them, and they told me about some of the things that were really hard about not drinking--like that it was hard to interact with people sober when your courage used to have an artificial source. I said I could totally see it, which I can, being pretty nervous about certain types of social interactions myself.
We talked for some time, also about other museums around, and the Shedd Aquarium. "They have a komodo dragon," I said, and, rather carried away by enthusiasm, told them how komodo dragons have a nasty germy slime dripping from their mouth and take down their prey by biting them and waiting until they die of infection. The one guy had seen something about it on TV; the Matt Damon guy was pretty impressed. I thought how the world is big and full of interesting things.
When I got off the bus, I told them I hoped that they had great time at the museum, and the guy who had first talked to me said with great sincerity that he hoped I would have a good day. I am not sure if I said the right kinds of things but I hope so. The interaction left me feeling extremely optimistic somehow. And I felt like I'd made someone's day better just by taking the time to chat a little. In itself not so meaningful, but maybe it would help give them more confidence the next time they faced a social interaction. Maybe it would help in some way. I wonder how they are doing and if they did have an okay time at the museum and if they're still on the wagon. I hope so. Also I realized that they made my day better by taking the time to chat with me. Life can be so interesting.
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