5:29pm
I was staring at the clock in the lower right-hand corner of my computer screen. I had a half hour to kill and had resolved to spend the entirety of it deciding what to make for dinner. I quickly took an inventory in my head of the contents of my refrigerator.
Brussel Sprouts
Potatoes
Various Condiments
What could I do with this?
My typical "dinner" when I finally get home consists of random small snacks. A few pieces of cheese, a can of tuna, maybe a rice cake or two, but hardly a meal. I
Some Salmon would be nice. I googled a few things and made my final decision. Poached Salmon with fresh bread, sauted brussel sprouts, and sauted garlic potatoes. There's a natural market across the street from my apt where the fish is always fresh. I had no idea what this would cost, but decided to treat myself.
6:00...quitting time.
As I exited the 7th Avenue B/Q station with all the other worker bees I heard a man at the top of the stairs asking for change. The tide of weary commuters pushed me along such that I could reach for my wallet.
I went to the market, and purchased my $8 piece of fish. On the way back to my apt I walked back to the man at the top of the subway steps and handed him $0.46.
"Thank you kindly dear, you're too kind! Oh, and thanks for the lovely smile! You have a wonderful night!"
"You're welcome", I called back to him over my shoulder as I skipped home to cook myself dinner and enjoy a relaxing evening on the couch.
Total Contribution: $0.46
Station: 7th ave Q/B
24 February, 2010
28 January, 2010
I have Proof
This post is actually a story from last year that I wanted to share. It was Thanksgiving eve, and I was heading to Union Square to meet my Belgian friend Thibault. I had invited him spend his first American Thanksgiving with my family at my sister's house in New Jersey. I was riding the Q train when a man got on at canal street. He had clearly had a stroke. One side of this face was completely paralyzed, and his hand was contorted. He struggled to walk straight.
"Hello everybody. I don't want to disturb you, but as you can see I'm not well. I'm disabled and unemployed. After we pay our bills on government assistance we only have $20 to feed our family. I have three kids."
He held up pictures of his kids and stated their names and ages.
"I'm not lying here. I go to physical therapy twice a week. If you don't believe me I have proof."
He held up his physical therapy card.
"Please, please, help me feed my family please."
He started walking the length of the car, but being so unsteady on his feet, the sudden jolts of the train were easily throwing off his balance. He held up his physical therapy card as he stumbled.
I stood there with my back against the subway door, my rolling luggage secured between my feet. I reached for my wallet, and as we walked up to me I gave him the entire contents. It was $8. Not a king's ransom, but everyone I could spare during that mid-day subway ride.
Total Contribution: $8
Station: Q train between Canal Street and Union Square
"Hello everybody. I don't want to disturb you, but as you can see I'm not well. I'm disabled and unemployed. After we pay our bills on government assistance we only have $20 to feed our family. I have three kids."
He held up pictures of his kids and stated their names and ages.
"I'm not lying here. I go to physical therapy twice a week. If you don't believe me I have proof."
He held up his physical therapy card.
"Please, please, help me feed my family please."
He started walking the length of the car, but being so unsteady on his feet, the sudden jolts of the train were easily throwing off his balance. He held up his physical therapy card as he stumbled.
I stood there with my back against the subway door, my rolling luggage secured between my feet. I reached for my wallet, and as we walked up to me I gave him the entire contents. It was $8. Not a king's ransom, but everyone I could spare during that mid-day subway ride.
Total Contribution: $8
Station: Q train between Canal Street and Union Square
17 January, 2010
Guilty Conscience
It was Brian's birthday and I took him to my favorite place, Jadis, for dinner on the Lower East side. After we finished we were headed to Sugar Cafe for dessert. As we walked down Rivington toward Allen Street a man was standing outside the corner bodega.
"Some change so I can eat please?"
I winced. Brian isn't supportive of this project.
"Fight it Linette. Come on. Be strong."
I couldn't. I stopped, pulled out my wallet and opened the coin purse. As I counted my change I lectured Brian on how I feel this is my obligation. This is something I have to do, and I must remain true to my word and this blog.
He sighed, rolled his eyes, and stood at the corner.
I walked back and handed the change to the man. He bowed his head.
"Thank you miss."
I walked back toward Brian who hadn't completely abandoned me ever though we had the walk signal.
"Hey, god bless you" the man yelled to me as Brian and I began briskly walking since the signal was flashing.
"You too" I called back to him.
We continued on to Sugar Cafe where Brian bought himself a cupcake, and me a macaroon the size of my head.
Total Contribution: $0.61
Rivington and Allen, LES
"Some change so I can eat please?"
I winced. Brian isn't supportive of this project.
"Fight it Linette. Come on. Be strong."
I couldn't. I stopped, pulled out my wallet and opened the coin purse. As I counted my change I lectured Brian on how I feel this is my obligation. This is something I have to do, and I must remain true to my word and this blog.
He sighed, rolled his eyes, and stood at the corner.
I walked back and handed the change to the man. He bowed his head.
"Thank you miss."
I walked back toward Brian who hadn't completely abandoned me ever though we had the walk signal.
"Hey, god bless you" the man yelled to me as Brian and I began briskly walking since the signal was flashing.
"You too" I called back to him.
We continued on to Sugar Cafe where Brian bought himself a cupcake, and me a macaroon the size of my head.
Total Contribution: $0.61
Rivington and Allen, LES
13 January, 2010
Lesson Learned
It was bound to happen. I knew it would, I just didn't expect it to happen so early in the project. I knew I would eventually not have any money on me to contribute to the less fortunate.
The Opera got out at 11:38 last night. Jason and I bounced toward the 1 train humming "Toreador" after seeing a performance of Carmen at The Metropolitan Opera. We reached the downtown entrance to head back to Brooklyn. The dreaded pink tape. Oh well, time to hoof it to Columbus Circle, and that we did. We resolved to get on the first train that came, and it was a D. Jason and I would both have to transfer, but at different stations. By now it was midnight, the trains were running local and it was going to be a long ride.
An old woman with a cane, plastic bag, and dowager's hump came into our car at 34th street. She walked the length of the car with an outstretched hand meekly asking
"change so I can eat?"
This is someone's grandmother. I elbowed Jason next to me.
"What? Oh no. Not happenin'. Seriously Linette, you've gotta stop this."
"Jason, come on! What's in your pocket?"
He reached into the pocket of his suit and handed me $0.61. We were pulling into West 4th street, and I had to nearly chase the woman out of the subway car. I reached and tapped her on the shoulder just as she was stepping out of the open doors. She turned, took my change, and smiled.
"Thank you dear. My, you look pretty."
I had temporarily forgotten that I was wearing a dress and my mouth was covered in red lipstick. Startled back into reality, I thanked her.
"I hope you accomplished whatever you intended to with that $0.61."
Yep
Total contribution: $0.61
Station: D train at West 4th Street
The Opera got out at 11:38 last night. Jason and I bounced toward the 1 train humming "Toreador" after seeing a performance of Carmen at The Metropolitan Opera. We reached the downtown entrance to head back to Brooklyn. The dreaded pink tape. Oh well, time to hoof it to Columbus Circle, and that we did. We resolved to get on the first train that came, and it was a D. Jason and I would both have to transfer, but at different stations. By now it was midnight, the trains were running local and it was going to be a long ride.
An old woman with a cane, plastic bag, and dowager's hump came into our car at 34th street. She walked the length of the car with an outstretched hand meekly asking
"change so I can eat?"
This is someone's grandmother. I elbowed Jason next to me.
"What? Oh no. Not happenin'. Seriously Linette, you've gotta stop this."
"Jason, come on! What's in your pocket?"
He reached into the pocket of his suit and handed me $0.61. We were pulling into West 4th street, and I had to nearly chase the woman out of the subway car. I reached and tapped her on the shoulder just as she was stepping out of the open doors. She turned, took my change, and smiled.
"Thank you dear. My, you look pretty."
I had temporarily forgotten that I was wearing a dress and my mouth was covered in red lipstick. Startled back into reality, I thanked her.
"I hope you accomplished whatever you intended to with that $0.61."
Yep
Total contribution: $0.61
Station: D train at West 4th Street
12 January, 2010
Tricks of the Trade
Last night I rushed out of my office at 5:30, and headed for the downtown Q. I had laundry to do, and had managed to scrape up some loose quarters from the office so I wouldn't have to break a $20 bill at the laundromat. As I entered the station at 16th street and Union Square West I saw an elderly man standing at the bottom of the stairs leaning on a cane and holding a cup. He wasn't alone, but had a second elderly gentleman with him to whom he was talking. As I walked past I reached in my pocket and put one of my quarters into his creased paper cup. He quickly grabbed it and put it in his pocket. At this point he leaned closer to his friend and explained, "see, that's whatchu gotta do. When you gets change yous gotta grab it real quick else it run away agin. Some kid might come by and steal the cup out your hand. Damn kids."
I lingered near the metrocard machine to listen to more of the conversation.
"Yous always stay on this side the park cuz the other side has the jew hospital, and those folks don't give nothing. This how it works here."
Clearly the receiver of this advice was new to panhandling in this station and the man with the cane was a seasoned veteran.
"Now when someone give you money you snatch it up real quick, cuz if people here see you got something they won't give. They see an empty cup and they think they the only one givin' to you."
Apparently these behaviors are specific to the Union Square subway station. I stood there for only a few minutes, but it was rush hour and scores of people pushed past the old pair while I watched and listened. Some were students, others were tourists, and still others were professionals, like me, rushing to the warmth of the underground in escape of the biting chill of January in New York. No one else bothered to deposit their loose change into the man's paper cup.
When I got to the laundromat I came up a quarter short to dry my clothes, but I felt better about breaking that $20.
Total Contribution: $0.25
Station: Union Square
I lingered near the metrocard machine to listen to more of the conversation.
"Yous always stay on this side the park cuz the other side has the jew hospital, and those folks don't give nothing. This how it works here."
Clearly the receiver of this advice was new to panhandling in this station and the man with the cane was a seasoned veteran.
"Now when someone give you money you snatch it up real quick, cuz if people here see you got something they won't give. They see an empty cup and they think they the only one givin' to you."
Apparently these behaviors are specific to the Union Square subway station. I stood there for only a few minutes, but it was rush hour and scores of people pushed past the old pair while I watched and listened. Some were students, others were tourists, and still others were professionals, like me, rushing to the warmth of the underground in escape of the biting chill of January in New York. No one else bothered to deposit their loose change into the man's paper cup.
When I got to the laundromat I came up a quarter short to dry my clothes, but I felt better about breaking that $20.
Total Contribution: $0.25
Station: Union Square
08 January, 2010
Just a little beat so I can get something to eat
I stood on the uptown 4/5/6 platform in Union Square and decided to take whatever train arrived first. I heard the metallic grind of wheels-on-track as a 6 train rode the curve into the station. I got on and immediately looked at the electronic board to see how many stops I had before my destination. Hmmm, 9 stops.
The ride was relatively uneventful, and especially crowded after stopping at Grand Central terminal. Then, at 68th street, an old woman boarded with a snare drum that looked like its snaring days were long gone. The typical curled wiring and cables of the drum were hollowed out, and the drumhead was covered with black and grey electrical tape. She placed the drum on the floor in the center of the car and pulled two thick dowels from her tattered coat.
"Excuse me ladies and gentleman! Just a little beat so I can get something to eat."
She began druming wildly.
"This ain't no joke, cuz I'm really broke. It's cold out there, and if you've got somethin' to spare. Nickles, dimes, quarters, pennies, I don't care. Whatever you can spare."
I looked around. No one was even looking up. Business men read their copies of The Wall Street Journal and Financial Times. People listened to ipods. People pretended to be preoccupied with the tassels on their scarves or buttons on their coats. A man whittled a piece of wood that looked like it once belonged to an outdated kitchen cabinet.
I reached into my bag to fish around for my wallet. I opened the change purse and emptied it. The woman walked toward me with her hand outstretched and I placed the loose change in her palm. She thanked me, and continued on past. No one else gave her anything.
The train slowed as we approached the 77th street stop, and she quickly shuffled back to the center of the car to retrieve her drum. As she passed me again she said, "God bless you dear, and thank you again."
I smiled and nodded.
The train stopped and she exited. The business men exited with her, newspapers folded and tucked securely under their arms or in attache cases. I put my earbuds back in and resumed listening to Matt Nathanson sing the lyric: "Tell me do the people all take care of you?" as the train gained speed toward 86th street.
Total Contribution: $0.46
Somewhere between 68th and 77th streets
The ride was relatively uneventful, and especially crowded after stopping at Grand Central terminal. Then, at 68th street, an old woman boarded with a snare drum that looked like its snaring days were long gone. The typical curled wiring and cables of the drum were hollowed out, and the drumhead was covered with black and grey electrical tape. She placed the drum on the floor in the center of the car and pulled two thick dowels from her tattered coat.
"Excuse me ladies and gentleman! Just a little beat so I can get something to eat."
She began druming wildly.
"This ain't no joke, cuz I'm really broke. It's cold out there, and if you've got somethin' to spare. Nickles, dimes, quarters, pennies, I don't care. Whatever you can spare."
I looked around. No one was even looking up. Business men read their copies of The Wall Street Journal and Financial Times. People listened to ipods. People pretended to be preoccupied with the tassels on their scarves or buttons on their coats. A man whittled a piece of wood that looked like it once belonged to an outdated kitchen cabinet.
I reached into my bag to fish around for my wallet. I opened the change purse and emptied it. The woman walked toward me with her hand outstretched and I placed the loose change in her palm. She thanked me, and continued on past. No one else gave her anything.
The train slowed as we approached the 77th street stop, and she quickly shuffled back to the center of the car to retrieve her drum. As she passed me again she said, "God bless you dear, and thank you again."
I smiled and nodded.
The train stopped and she exited. The business men exited with her, newspapers folded and tucked securely under their arms or in attache cases. I put my earbuds back in and resumed listening to Matt Nathanson sing the lyric: "Tell me do the people all take care of you?" as the train gained speed toward 86th street.
Total Contribution: $0.46
Somewhere between 68th and 77th streets
07 January, 2010
The Beginning
I don't do New Year's resolutions. I never have, and I never will. It always seemed like a useless endeavor to me. Why does it have to be a new year for us to change the way we behave or improve ourselves? Why should do we need to wait for the calendar to change? It doesn't, and we don't. That being said, this project was not a New Year's resolution, but it is certainly a resolution of sorts.
Last night I stopped at Dos Toros to get Burritos before heading to the Upper East to watch a movie. As I entered the Union Square subway station on 4th avenue there was an old man standing in the entrance begging for change for a cup of coffee. It was the middle of rush hour. Dozens of people entered, and no one reached in their pocket. I felt badly. I stepped to the side and took out my wallet. As I was doing so a teenaged hooligan ran down the stairs and began taunting and harassing the old man.
"Hey kid, I'm 60 years old. I'm just tryin' to get a cup of coffee."
"Yeah sure you are you dirty old fuck. Go get a job!"
The kid shoved him and ran for the turnstile. I walked over and gave him a $1 bill.
"Thank you miss."
"You're welcome, and stay warm okay. Have a good night."
Just then the hooligan looked back.
"Hey, that's a whole dollar old man! Don't spend that all in one place!"
I was disgusted. So frequently I see this sort of thing happen. The homeless are treated like they're subhuman. People have more sympathy for a starving animal than a starving person.
Total Contribution: $1
Station: Union Square
Last night I stopped at Dos Toros to get Burritos before heading to the Upper East to watch a movie. As I entered the Union Square subway station on 4th avenue there was an old man standing in the entrance begging for change for a cup of coffee. It was the middle of rush hour. Dozens of people entered, and no one reached in their pocket. I felt badly. I stepped to the side and took out my wallet. As I was doing so a teenaged hooligan ran down the stairs and began taunting and harassing the old man.
"Hey kid, I'm 60 years old. I'm just tryin' to get a cup of coffee."
"Yeah sure you are you dirty old fuck. Go get a job!"
The kid shoved him and ran for the turnstile. I walked over and gave him a $1 bill.
"Thank you miss."
"You're welcome, and stay warm okay. Have a good night."
Just then the hooligan looked back.
"Hey, that's a whole dollar old man! Don't spend that all in one place!"
I was disgusted. So frequently I see this sort of thing happen. The homeless are treated like they're subhuman. People have more sympathy for a starving animal than a starving person.
Total Contribution: $1
Station: Union Square
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