"Excuse me! Will you give me a push?"
"Sure. No problem."
I start pushing the hospital issued wheel chair up sixth avenue, trying to breath through my mouth so his stench won't become stuck in my nostrils.
"Where do you need me to take you?"
"Just go straight."
"Okay..."
My phone shows ten minutes to ten. I shrug off any expectations of arriving to work on time, embracing this impromptu servitude.
We are an odd couple. An average girl dressed for her night out with friends later in the evening pushing an old handicapped alcoholic dressed in pissed-stained clothes. A busted sandal dangled off of his remaining foot.
"Just how far do you need to go?"
"I told you it's right up here, you dumb cunt!"
We're parting a sea of commuters on their way into work. All heads turn to us.
Coming through. Abusive white woman making a homeless guy upset. That's me!
"Is that any way to talk to someone who's helping you get somewhere? Shame on you."
He grumbles an apology that stops just short of calling me a cunt again.
We reach the intersection and I turn his chair so that he won't roll into traffic, while I briefly reach into my bag.
"What the fuck are you doing? The crosswalk ramp is down there. You're about to roll me right off the curb, you idiot!"
"Oh, calm down, I was turning the wheels so you wouldn't roll away from me." I turn his chair forward again.
"What? Yeah right. You think I'm stupid because I'm black?!"
A man crossing the street arches his eyebrow as he walks past.
For a moment, I consider letting go of the wheelchair.
"No. I think you're unappreciative and rude. Now, which way?"
(silence)
"How far up?"
(silence)
"So you're going to insult me and then give me the silent treatment? I suppose I'll just have to guess, then. Ah. You must be headed to the police station around the corner."
"Right here." He points to a deli.
"He speaks! Just a second ago, I couldn't get you to shut up."
"I'm sorry. You were just being a dumb cunt and--"
"Was that an 'I'm sorry?' I'll take it. Hold the cunt, thank you very much."
He chuckles and I push him through the door of the deli, letting go so he glides in.
"Thank you, young lady."
"My pleasure."
And, surprisingly, it is.
