week one round up

on the outskirts of the Midwest’s l;largest shopping area, there are buildings populated with the people who keep these places running. each afternoon, as I impatiently wait for the 606 pace bus, I look at fellow riders,. the muscular middle aged men, with rough hands, and dirty knees. the small Latina women, with thick middles and long hair. the older gentleman, who seem as if they have been waiting this stop for 20 years of their career. the bus is filled with “real” people, in stark contrast to the other types I generally know- hood rats, and rich people. the people that stand shoulder to shoulder with me are not my colleagues, who drive past me on their way to the expressway. the people who stand there, and ignore the tears welling in my eyes are the people who deserve the credit. the people who live invisible lives. there was a moment as I waited yesterday - when I was looking to find the woman that sometimes waits with me- as I use her as a gauge of whether or not the bus is on time. when she arrived at the bus stop, she sighed, and asked where I worked- and for a quick moment it occurred to me that I may be riding home with the woman who cleans the restroom of my office. so I told her where I worked, and asked the same of her. I was relieved when she replied that she workers into he laundry room of the hotel next door. but again- I bet that no one else in the building confronts what it means to ride the bus home with the woman who spent the day literally cleaning up your shit. I missed the damen bus this am- and ended up doing a combination run/ walk the whole way to the train- partially from fear of missing the train, and partially from curiosity about exactly what happens when I miss the bus, so I made the train. the early one that is a waste of time. but that’s not the point. the point is that, I sat behind a couple riding to hare. they were nearly 60, he an American boy, and she a diminutive Asian woman. I thought about how their relation ship started- was it some Vietnam remnant? were they travelling? how did their family feel? but regardless, here they were, together, in their clean, well pressed clothes, with small frays at the collars, and hems. later on the ride, when I was exiting the station, I realized that if I rushed for the bus, it would be the early one that would get me to work 25 minutes early. and since they don’t give me time back, I’m not giving them any more than I have to . so I rambled to the coffee shop, and rambled to a bench before realizing that maybe I should at least check on the crowd of people standing under the 606 bus sign. “are you waiting for the 7:05 bus?” ” I’m waiting for the 606 the woman replied… “right but…the one that leaves at 7:05? she didn’t know, but the man next to her piped in with “yeah, the 7:05.” just as the 606 pulled in and the people packed towards the door. but this man, a tall, good-looking young brotha, didn’t pack towards the front with the rest of them. he slipped around the edges of the crowd, permitting others to move ahead, as he worked his way into the back exit of the bus. in this moment, he not only saved the fare, but also secured himself a seat, on what was shaping up to be a very crowded bus. immediately, my mind when back to the early chapters of Ellis’ “invisible man” where the narrator comments on using ones invisibility to gain access to places one is not supposed to be- and the narrator explains that it is not the fault of the invisible for taking advantage, but the result of treating a group of people as invisible. this man was part of an invisible, indistinguishable mass- in his blackness,and in his status as a bus riding commuter. it was a powerful realization for me- to see him do this- because of the intelligent way he used his invisibility to his benefit. and unlike other bus riders, who many not come from communities of invisibility like he- they were unaware of this possibility- which is really available to all of us on the bus. unlike the woman from the laundry room, this man had balanced the power dynamic back in has favor. on the same ride, it occurred to me that most of the people on the bus were wearing the same type of well cleaned, and slightly frayed clothing that the couple on the train had on. and I realized how funny it is to see the cute mall women prance around our office in new silk shirts, while all of the people who clean their shit, and mow their lawns are living among “us” and using their wages to buy the clothing that “we” deem no longer usable. as I walked up the stairs to my job- I wondered about how many people don’t bother saying hello to the doorman, and how many don’t bother to take the steps up to our floor. I realized that I was not interested in rushing up the elevator to get to work- and that in most of the world- no one is. and I realized that here in the US, most people aren’t interested in rushing up the stairs- but this myth is supported by the 10% of robots who are highest up on the totem pole. we are all expected to rush to please the 10% of the population who hold carrots made out of dollar bills at us. come on…don’t you want this money? you can buy a new sweater…don’t you want a new sweater…if you have a new sweater, you’ll fit in better…come one…. perhaps the high salary isnt for my degree, but the value the company places on my complacency.