Actually, I'm not Irish, but I am employed...
Today was happy hour day for my co-workers (who are also my friends) and I. Usually we have one about once every few months, and we always go to the same place, Sammy's, right across the street from our building downtown. Today Ashley (who I really don't know very well, but appears a lot in this blog I've noticed) told us about being proposed to on the bus this morning. She apparently usually takes the trolley into work and this was her first time on the bus. She made eye contact with the wrong guy and it got her a marriage proposal. Several, in fact. So many that she had to get off the bus really far from work and walk about a mile in just to avoid the creepiness of the old man. I think it's left a pretty serious mark on her psyche. We all bemoaned her woes and amused each other with stories of our own weird experiences. Such as that time some idiot who I was walking towards on the street jumped in front of me to yell, "You're hot!" when I realized that Brad's boss was walking directly behind him. (Rosemary thought this was the funniest thing she'd ever seen. She nearly fell over laughing.)
Unfortunately it's been really terribly rainy in Pittsburgh these last few days. Like that consistent, drizzly kind of rain. And also kind of abnormally cold for this time of year. Today it was in the 30s. Not really ideal for wanting to be out for a long time. So anyway, we went to happy hour at 3:30 (what was that about us not working very hard?) and around 6:25 I knew my bus was coming soon so I said goodbye to the other girls and headed out. While standing at my bus stop I was accosted again, this time by a very elderly man who was carrying two large bags from Macy's and a cane. He said, "You look cold." I said, "Yes, I am." He said, "Will you help me carry these bags to the t-stop? It'll warm you up." Not wanting to be a jerk, I agreed, though I admit I was a little nervous about missing my bus, especially since it was the last one I knew of for at least an hour. So I took one of his bags and we quite literally crawled at a snail's pace to the t-stop.
He told me he'd gone to Macy's to buy some blankets because his house was so cold. While asking many strange and random questions about my heritage (evidently I have the rosy cheeks of an Irish girl, and when I said I was mostly English he said, "those people started every war," which I didn't really think was entirely fair), we slowly made progress to the door of the building where the t-stop was located. Now mind you, the trolley goes underground when it gets inside the city, and it's a pretty long way down. I was anxious to get him down there and get back to my bus stop. He was having none of it. He asked about 100 questions about my job, how much they paid me, and that I might be entitled to unemployment benefits. He insisted that I sit on the ledge with him for a while. Like, seriously, he demanded it. I said I'd rather stand, and he said "Just sit! Only for a minute." And so finally I gave up and sat. "If you're good I might let you hold my hand," he said. Listen, men, here's a good lesson to learn. If you ever get to be 70 years old or older, you must not say these things to very young women. It makes them very uncomfortable, and it's creepy. Also, proposing to young girls on the bus is also not acceptable, no matter what age you are.
He then regaled me with stories of his mother's rice, pine nuts, and lamb meat haggis. He liked the crispy skin. "Oh, I meant to tell you," he said, as if he had just been waiting to say this to me for days now, "I don't know if they want you to know this, but you might be entitled to unemployment benefits." At this point I gave up trying to explain to him that I already have a job. He just didn't seem to be getting it. So I said I'd look into that. Now, as you all may know, I have a pretty quiet speaking voice. I'm also not really comfortable yelling at old people, and I'd just come from a pretty noisy bar where I had to yell a lot to be heard anyway, so my voice was hoarse already. All of these combined made it very hard for him to hear me. He insisted that I move closer to him. "I just don't want to strain my ears!" he persisted. While moving closer to this guy was probably the last thing on earth I wanted to do, about 10 minutes had passed by now, and I was getting very anxious anyway. I had been watching for my bus and it hadn't come. I apologized profusely but explained that if I didn't leave right away I would miss my bus. I did feel like I was being crappy. Really. But honestly I knew that if I stayed there he would just keep talking and then I would miss my bus and be stuck in the rain for another hour. Finally he gave me permission to leave. Though I admit I would have left anyway.
Strangely enough this is not the first time that I'd been approached by an elderly gentleman to help him carry his bags. The first time it happened I was in Squirrel Hill and one guy was carrying his groceries and he came up to me and said, "Will you help me carry my bags? They're too heavy!" I was very ready and willing to help this man carry his bags but then he started laughing and said he was only joking. This made me feel worse. I said I would help and he said it was too long of a walk and that I was nice to offer. I didn't remind him he'd asked me.
YES, 4(!) followers.
Unfortunately it's been really terribly rainy in Pittsburgh these last few days. Like that consistent, drizzly kind of rain. And also kind of abnormally cold for this time of year. Today it was in the 30s. Not really ideal for wanting to be out for a long time. So anyway, we went to happy hour at 3:30 (what was that about us not working very hard?) and around 6:25 I knew my bus was coming soon so I said goodbye to the other girls and headed out. While standing at my bus stop I was accosted again, this time by a very elderly man who was carrying two large bags from Macy's and a cane. He said, "You look cold." I said, "Yes, I am." He said, "Will you help me carry these bags to the t-stop? It'll warm you up." Not wanting to be a jerk, I agreed, though I admit I was a little nervous about missing my bus, especially since it was the last one I knew of for at least an hour. So I took one of his bags and we quite literally crawled at a snail's pace to the t-stop.
He told me he'd gone to Macy's to buy some blankets because his house was so cold. While asking many strange and random questions about my heritage (evidently I have the rosy cheeks of an Irish girl, and when I said I was mostly English he said, "those people started every war," which I didn't really think was entirely fair), we slowly made progress to the door of the building where the t-stop was located. Now mind you, the trolley goes underground when it gets inside the city, and it's a pretty long way down. I was anxious to get him down there and get back to my bus stop. He was having none of it. He asked about 100 questions about my job, how much they paid me, and that I might be entitled to unemployment benefits. He insisted that I sit on the ledge with him for a while. Like, seriously, he demanded it. I said I'd rather stand, and he said "Just sit! Only for a minute." And so finally I gave up and sat. "If you're good I might let you hold my hand," he said. Listen, men, here's a good lesson to learn. If you ever get to be 70 years old or older, you must not say these things to very young women. It makes them very uncomfortable, and it's creepy. Also, proposing to young girls on the bus is also not acceptable, no matter what age you are.
He then regaled me with stories of his mother's rice, pine nuts, and lamb meat haggis. He liked the crispy skin. "Oh, I meant to tell you," he said, as if he had just been waiting to say this to me for days now, "I don't know if they want you to know this, but you might be entitled to unemployment benefits." At this point I gave up trying to explain to him that I already have a job. He just didn't seem to be getting it. So I said I'd look into that. Now, as you all may know, I have a pretty quiet speaking voice. I'm also not really comfortable yelling at old people, and I'd just come from a pretty noisy bar where I had to yell a lot to be heard anyway, so my voice was hoarse already. All of these combined made it very hard for him to hear me. He insisted that I move closer to him. "I just don't want to strain my ears!" he persisted. While moving closer to this guy was probably the last thing on earth I wanted to do, about 10 minutes had passed by now, and I was getting very anxious anyway. I had been watching for my bus and it hadn't come. I apologized profusely but explained that if I didn't leave right away I would miss my bus. I did feel like I was being crappy. Really. But honestly I knew that if I stayed there he would just keep talking and then I would miss my bus and be stuck in the rain for another hour. Finally he gave me permission to leave. Though I admit I would have left anyway.
Strangely enough this is not the first time that I'd been approached by an elderly gentleman to help him carry his bags. The first time it happened I was in Squirrel Hill and one guy was carrying his groceries and he came up to me and said, "Will you help me carry my bags? They're too heavy!" I was very ready and willing to help this man carry his bags but then he started laughing and said he was only joking. This made me feel worse. I said I would help and he said it was too long of a walk and that I was nice to offer. I didn't remind him he'd asked me.
YES, 4(!) followers.
Hmm, that seems totally normal to me. I ask people to marry me all the time on the bus. I do have to admit, I've taken to not making eye contact with anyone on the bus. I feel like people troll bus routes just looking for people to harass. That's quite odd though about people asking you to help them carry stuff. No one ever asks ME to carry stuff. But then, they probably realize that I would just say "no" anyway. People can be pretty sharp. Sometimes.
ReplyDeleteUgh, I hate situations like this! How annoying of this old man to totally not realize maybe he's making you late/uncomfortable/annoyed/creeped out. One time I decided to go for a short hike at the nation's smallest national park or whatever it is around here by myself and this real weirdo followed me and wouldn't stop talking to me even though I wouldn't turn around to answer him. I cut my hike short and couldn't shake the dude. I was sooo mad/freaked out he was going to try to rape me in the bushes. Why did he feel the need to basically harass me when I was obviously not wanting to share my hike w/ him?? Reason #128594873 why I hate men, especially the weird variety.
ReplyDeleteYou're a much nicer person than me!! I would have stayed planted at the bus stop and refused to help. Back when I rode the T, a mentally handicap gentleman used to always tip his hat to me and talk to me. He's was really hard to understand when he spoke, but I always felt so bad for him because other people were mean to him and he was just trying to be nice. Creepy nice, but nice. He'd always call women gorgeous, which yes, is somewhat offensive but I honestly don't think he knew any better. Anyway, he'd talk to me for entire bus rides. Between the stress of that and the stress of work, I'm a mean little girl. And I agree with Josh. Never make eye contact.
ReplyDelete