bench

"It's a nice weather, isn't it?" A stranger said.
I was reading newspapers, not paying attention to him. The weather was not nice. It was windy. Last night, a storm damaged the roof of the Park, making the garden of the Park dripping, making the supposedly-feels-like-outdoor part of the restaurant feel like outdoor. The storm also hit all the leaves in the City down to the earth. The fall was called off over night, and it was not nice.
I was in my fluffy coat with the hood on to protect my head and hairdo, with mittens protecting my fingers.
The stranger got the signal of I-am-not-sorry-that-I-am-not-interested-in-talking-to-you from me and left.
A stranger's boring pick-up line would not kill my day. Even though it looked like I was doing one of the things that are listed on my "least favorite" list, I was actually not waiting on a cold bench for something uncertain to happen.
I was doing my favorite thing out of the museum while Liu was doing his thing inside the Met.
I'm not a big fan of the Met. I especially don't enjoy the weekend crowd fighting for air indoors. I love my Sunday papers. I was reading them with a good mood. Yeah, it was a windy but at least sunny day.

And my phone rang.
Claudia called for help. She was supposed to go back to my neighborhood in New Jersey by train. Her car was there. Javier, a Penn Stater who she and I had just met last night in the Park, was going to take a ride with her.
While she was hurrying to catch the train, she left an important bag in the train station in Manhattan. She called me from New Jersey.
I jumped up and gathered the papers into my weekend luggage and jumped into a cab.
Time was the only important factor now. If I could get to the station before anyone took her bag, I might save her life. I wished I were the spider man.

It was a wrong idea of hopping into a cab on the fifth ave. The traffic was not moving. While there was a credit card machine in the cab, it was broken, so the driver dropped me at an ATM after we finally got out the crammed traffic.
The driver felt secure that he would get cash for his job, and he finally started to behave like a New York taxi driver. I arrived in Penn Station and looked for Claudia's bag. I didn't find it. The cleaning lady had not seen it. The staff sitting in the customer service booth had not received anything from anyone.
I waited.
For Liu to join my waiting.
For Claudia to return.

Two police officers did the lost report for Claudia, asking her what was in the bag.
"Halloween costume." Claudia said. Later, she expressed how upset she was that she had just bought it for a great price. The police spelled the word incorrectly: Holloween.
"Other valuable things?" The officer asked.
"Hm. Tea. Three boxes." Claudia replied. I looked at her and disbelieved that she had not mentioned about her hand bag which held her cards and keys. The police wrote "Tea-3".
"And?" The police asked again.
"And my hand bag." I was relieved and leaving her with the police. Well, I should not have. She left her backpack in the police station without noticing it. She was embarrassed later when retrieving it from the police.

Liu and Javier were waiting. I joined them. Claudia was trying to reach her credit card companies.
We, then, all waited for a subway train to the Chinatown for Claudia and Javier to take a bus back to State College. Well... there was no 5pm bus but a 7pm bus, which meant more waiting. Thus, we decided to get fed. In this unbusy hour, the kitchen was almost closed. So we waited for waitresses to bring food.

The whole incidence must not feel nice on Claudia's end. I am not making jokes out of it. I totally understand her lost, physically and psychologically. However, I wish she did feel lucky that we were there with her, waiting. I wish she didn't feel alone, dealing with everything on her own.

Life does not teach me how to be tough. It has taught me how to soften myself and appreciate help and company from others. It has taught me that living alone does not mean living in isolation. It has taught me that it is great to get warm hugs when I really need them.

Waiting on a bench is boring. Waiting on a bench for a person you care is showing your support. Waiting on a bench with a person who care about you is a blessing.
I realized that there is no such thing as running out of luck. I am lucky that there are people that I care, and that there is a person who care about me.

Be calm. Keep breathing. Things will be better.