I’m on 86th and Third, waiting for the light to change.
A cab pulls up. The door swings open, but all I see are two legs the size of sequoias, hanging off the seat.
I peek in to find a very large man more or less, stuck, unable to get out.
My first reaction is to offer my hand, he ignores, focusing on nothing particular as if he’s trying to figure out what to do. I realize too late, the last thing he’d want, is for a woman to help him.
The driver and I look at each other, while the crosstown bus pulls up unable to pass. Now there’s a crowd gaping, making it all so much worse for this poor, obese fellow who’s still stuck.
There’s another heavyset man who panhandles on the corner, so I wave to him, motioning to please come over.
He does, swiftly waddling up the block like the chubby cavalry.
He sees immediately what the problem is, so he hands me his coffee can filled with change, leans down and says to the man, “We’s got this bro—don’t you worra’,” before grabbing him by his middle, squeezing his sides like a greased girdle, gently easing him out.
Imagine the Jaws of Life if they were attached to a middle-aged black man.
They shake hands before the man takes flight, the rescuer, reclaiming his coffee can, returning to his corner. The cabbie and bus go on their way, and the street commences, like a frozen film clip that had gotten jammed in the machine.
As for me, considering the circumstances, thinks it best to skip lunch.
Just another tale, in the Naked City.
SB
I’d love to reply, “Fat chance!”
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I think you’d need a lot of lunches to catch him up girth-wise.
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I guess you had to be there. Happy to see your mugshot on my page. 🙂
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Oh my goodness, Susannah! How did the man get into the cab in the first place? It’s a good thing you have a blog, because your encounters definitely need to be documented!
My mother-in-law once had a lawn chair stuck on her behind. Sort of like a turtle. Once her sons got the thing off we didn’t dare look at each other for fear of laughing. Her wrath was something to behold.
It would have been nice if the bystanders around the cab scene had placed some donations into the rescuer’s can.
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In all fairness, on every corner is someone asking for alms. You become conditioned and to protect your pockets, somewhat immuned. It’s why I don’t carry much cash. Who knows how that man got in. A mystery to be sure. And your mother-in-law. If it were me I
may have never taken the chance of sitting down again. As always Skinny, I appreciate your constancy enhancing my mornings. 🙂
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This is hysterical. I would have been laughing (and of course feeling badly about laughing). I had a business lunch with two men once. We were doing video shoots in various locations so decided to get some fast food. We went to Burger King or something like that. The one guy refused to go inside to eat, saying he preferred to eat in the car. (It wasn’t his car and I thought it rude to eat in someone else’s car.) When I settled down with my burger, I realized he wouldn’t have fit in the booths. Neither the other guy nor I even thought about that when picking the place.
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That’s so sad to me. The poor guy. With all my issues to not have that be one could put me on my knees
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That’s so New York
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Isn’t it though?
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Okay, so you read him right as rain and the dude really was lucky to have a walking, talking jaws of life nearby. You are so typically New York, dear lady; always at the ready to roll up your sleeves and pitch in. However . . when your best intentions get all mucked up in some dude’s prideful put down, well . . . you can sit back and enjoy the show as well.
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I just can’t imagine what it would be like to be that fat. It’s hard to think it’s because of one too many Ring Dings. He looked as if he came that way, like a bowl at IKEA. As for me, I always stop. It’s the Joan of Bark in me. Sigh
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Joan of Bark is my favorite line of the day, and it’s only 9 am! Haha!
And I often wonder the same thing as far as that kind of weight is concerned. Was it predestined for this individual to be so heavy that he would need help lifting himself out of a taxi? Or is it a little bit of factory default and human weakness? I say weakness with a profound respect to will power. I mean, I could have Mario Batali bod seeing as how I love food that much. But I keep things logical. Eat, enjoy, be sensible and the key . . stay active.
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I just hung a framed photo of Anthony Bourdain in my kitchen. Wonder what he’d have to say. Sigh
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It always saddens me to see someone whose weight restricts where they can fit and what they can do. Obesity isn’t only a health and self-esteem issue. It’s also about independence.
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It’s very heartbreaking.
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We recently had a patient in the office who stood because he could not fit in our chairs. Something so simple as a doctor appointment was like climbing Everest. I’m glad the calvery was nearby to lend a hand.
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It’s stunning to see. And sad and a true appetite suppressant. I wasn’t really being funny purposely.
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One of those tales with a good ending…this one could’ve turned out much different.
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True
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That was quick thinking on your part, calling over the guy. You wouldn’t want to put your back out either.
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