September 12, 2006
Was on my walk tonight when a guy who looked like he'd just stepped out of a bad new wave video waved me down. It was dark so, from a few feet away, the only thing I noticed about him was his short dark hair with long platinum bangs, but as he got closer, I also noticed the thick eyeliner rimming his eyes and, most surprisingly, the fact that his face was heavily streaked with tears.
When he first waved me down, I assumed he wanted money or cigarettes, since that's what people usually stop and ask me for, but when he was close enough to speak, the one word I could understand in his mumbled speech was iPod. He was crying and saying something about an iPod.
He was so upset that he was incoherent, so I tried to calm him down so that I could figure out what was wrong, and that's when I was able to make out that he'd dropped and broke his iPod when he got off the bus earlier and, when he saw me walking along with my iPod, it had thrown him into a fit of despair.
"My iPod," he kept sobbing and, not knowing what to say, I suggested he take his iPod to an Apple store to see if it could be fixed. "You don't understand," he wailed, "it broke into a million pieces, it can't be fixed, and I can't afford another one!" I stood there not knowing what to say and felt guilty about the iPod I was holding in my hand, and then began to wonder if he wanted my iPod, was going to try to steal it, but his intentions were anything but criminal.
Suddenly, catching me totally off guard, he stepped forward and threw his arms around me, layed his head on my shoulder, and started to cry his heart out. Suffice to say that was awkward, finding myself on the street at night with a total stranger weeping on my shoulder, and while every safety expert would have told me it was a dangerous situation I should have tried to get out of as fast as possible, I didn't have the heart to push this guy away and leave him crying on the street by himself. So I did the opposite of what I should have and put my arms around him, returning his embrace, and just let him cry.
And as it turned out, that's all he wanted - just someone to talk to, a few kind words, and a hug. He even apologized for his behaviour afterwards, once he'd calmed down, and explained that it had been an awful day, topped off by dropping his iPod, and he was so depressed and upset that he just needed a little comfort, even if it was from a total stranger. And while the situation had been awkward at the time, I was glad that I could be that nice stranger.
Although I do admit that, after I was on my way again, I looked down at my iPod and couldn't help but chuckle. iPods sure are addictive. I remember when my first iPod died, I was so hysterical about it that Ross rushed right out and bought me a new, fearing that I might kill myself if I had to go a day without an iPod. Because that's what these lil' buggers do to you, turn you into crazy, raving addicts. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I'm starting to think that iPods should come with a warning.
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