Last night I learned the value of being part of a community.
I have a watering hole where I'm a bit of a regular. Nobody yells "NORM" when I walk in but the bartender knows my drink and usually has it poured for me as I'm sitting down. I know (or know of) most of the regulars. They know me as well. There's the old guy from Ireland who greets everyone with a friendly yet bone crushing handshake. There's the one guy from Nebraska who drinks fancy drinks with top shelf product, who tells innocuous yet slightly uncomfortable stories I'm never sure how to respond to. There's the other guy from Nebraska who is a friendly ex-marine who made his home in San Francisco when he finished his service. He's friends with the guy who always has Taco Bell in his backpack and a deck of Uno cards with him and is always down for a game. There's the married couple who are so nice and so genuine, and just looking at them together you can see how much they love each other. There's the old guy who is always given the remote control for the TV upon entry; he knows a lot about local sports and San Francisco sports history. There's the super tall handsome man I may or may not have a tiny crush on. There's the mom of a kid my oldest kid went to school with who I wasn't friends with when our kids were in school, but we're forming a nice friendship now. There's the woman who looks like she could be a "woo" girl given the right circumstances, but usually just keeps to herself and eats cookies. There's the guy who really likes sorghum and knows a lot about outer space. There's the guy who speaks mostly in hyperbolic metaphors but tells really amazing tall tales about growing up in SF's Excelsior neighborhood. I could go on and on. All of these people form a community and I was really comforted by that fact last night.
It was my regular Sunday night; Jazz / Laundry night. My local watering hole has a live jazz band on Sunday nights and luckily my local laundromat is just a few doors down. I get to mitigate my displeasure of doing laundry by listening to some great music surrounded by a great group of people. Despite having to do laundry, it's become my favorite night of the week.
Last night I was in the laundromat getting my washers loaded. There were two men in there who were standing right behind me. They were both over 6 feet tall. One guy was big and round and the other was tall and beanpole like. Both had a yucky vibe going on. The big one offered to help me with my laundry bags. I told him no, but thank you. They started talking about how women don't let men help them anymore. Then they started speaking to each other in Spanish. My Spanish is rudimentary at best, but I do understand a good bit. They were standing right behind me, too close for my comfort and saying really creepy things about what they wanted to do with me and with what body part of theirs they wanted to do it with. When I dropped a few socks and had to pick then up off the floor they made comments about my ass. Other people in the laundromat noticed the men and were looking pretty weirded out as well.
Feeling uncomfortable, I quickly loaded my stuff in the washer and got the heck out of dodge. I walked over to the little market to get a salad before heading to the watering hole. On my way to the watering hole, I had to pass the laundromat. The men were sitting in their truck outside and started cat-calling as I walked by. I ignored them and went inside the watering hole.
As I bellied up to the bar I mentioned to the bartender what had just happened. I was about to ask her if she'd seen the guy from Nebraska (the Marine, not the fancy drink guy) or the super tall handsome guy I may or may not have a tiny crush on, thinking I would ask one of them to walk me back to the laundromat when I had to switch stuff to the dryer. Before I could get my question out she volunteered one of her friends to do the job, someone I had never met, but had seen before. Turns out he was the GM of one of he restaurants down the street.
When it was time to switch the wash around, the big truck was gone. I thought they were gone, but it turns out, only one of then was gone. Icky Beanpole was still in the laundromat. The friend of the bartender, the kept himself between the guy and me and wouldn't let him engage with me. I was able to get everything in the dryer and out of there without having to worry about the icky guy. When it was time to get the laundry out of the dryer and into my car, the good guy walked back with me. Icky Beanpole guy was still there. Again the friend played interference not letting the icky one engage with me. As we were leaving, an Uber pulled up and Icky Beanpole guy got in and left.
When I got back to the watering hole, the super tall handsome man that I may or may not have a tiny crush on was standing outside. I told him what was happening. He gave me a few pats on the back and said he was glad I was OK and told me that that's what a good community does, helps out its members.
I got back to my seat at the bar, bought my new friend a few beers and after a few more songs, I left for the evening. As I left, I said goodbye to the bartender, my new friend, the Marine and cookie girl. I passed by the super tall handsome man I may or may not have a tiny crush on and he gave me a really awkward side-hug and air kiss, then wished me a good week.
What started as what could have been a really scary evening turned into a good night feeling good about my community.
Stay safe out there.
❤️
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