At the Bus Stop

I really enjoy sitting at my desk here at home and looking out the window. The interactions at the bus stop bench across the street are always interesting to watch. Those small exchanges are one of the great things about the city that create a sense of community. Last night, my friend Anu who lives by my old block called the Chinese store to order some pizza rolls and pork fried rice and May, who has been working there for several years, said "What, no crab Rangoon?" because that is what Anu normally orders. I went to the store to pick up our food and I saw a guy who used to hang out on the corner by my old house. I have never spoken to him once in my life, yet he greeted me like an old friend. In all those years, I just figured he could care less about me. It's funny how just having a routine and being out there for people to see creates connections and breaks down barriers. A black woman and a white man at a bus stop. An Indian girl from Minnesota and a Chinese store worker from New York. An Indiana farm boy and a Philly street guy. It sort of feels like we're all in this together.