When Men Are Men

images.jpeg It’s 4 A.M. on a Friday morning, as I head to a very early job. The city, though quieter to be sure, is anything but asleep, especially where the trains are concerned.

As a true blue New Yorker, I’m not afraid of her. Like Isak Dinesen wrote about Africa…

‘How could you live in such wilderness, and be afraid of it.’

As I stand on the platform alone, I suddenly find myself flanked by two men, both subway workers. One seated in the booth when I entered, the other just coming on.

They were both Latino, around 40, pretending I wasn’t there.

What I notice right away, is how nicely their hair is combed, reminding me of my father who always kept a comb in his back pocket making sure his part was straight. They had self-worth, these men I guess is my point, in the dignified way they presented themselves.

After gazing up at the sign keeping you apprised of the next train expected, I look around and realize, only these two fellows, along with myself, were in the whole terminal, but then see, three kids down a ways, pacing like hungry cougar cubs.

Ah ha, thinks Alice, unaware of any rabbit hole, realizing, this is why I suddenly have two bodyguards trying to be subtle.

They were making sure I’d get on the train safely without suggesting otherwise.

I didn’t let on that I know, because for whatever reason, they didn’t wish me to, so I stand between them quietly, like a proper Lady-in-waiting.

When the number 6 pulls in, packed with the Changing of the Guard, what I call all-night men and women swapping shifts, as it leaves with me by the door, I smile and wave to my two knights, and for the very first time, allow our eyes to meet, gratitude shining in mine, nobleness in theirs… Unknown.jpeg

chivalry not dead, just changing shifts.

SB

About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in Culture, grace, Gratitude, humanity, inspiration, men, New York City, Women and men, words, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

47 Responses to When Men Are Men

  1. Vasca Beall says:

    Love this, Susanna, first off your dad and his comb. My handsome guy always carries a comb in his pocket and he has a magnificent mane! Those two he-men were like a couple of hunky angels dropped in to protect a lady who might be prey for some not-so-good males trolling. I can picture those two guarding you…trying to be casual and unobtrusive. Can’t help lovin’ men…those protectors. Way to gg, guys!

    Like

  2. It’s nice to know that people look out for each other, sometimes in strange ways.
    I am sorry to have been absent so long. I have fallen behind on my emails and blog readings as well as my blog writing. I am dealing with some health issues; now, mostly, under control. diabetes is a very, um, interesting, illness. I will get all of yours read and commented on soon. You and several others.
    Scott

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Eilene Lyon says:

    I love this! The way you describe their self-respect by how they comb their hair – so perfect. And how you don’t let on right away that you understand their body language. And chivalry is not only not dead, but it isn’t a dirty word, either.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I agree, and I probably shouldn’t say this, it’s politically incorrect to single out any one group, even to laud them but…Latinos are the politest people on the planet. I see it all the time. It’s the exhausted hotel worker who swept floors all night that gives up his seat to a woman, not the Upper East side suit reading his WSJ oblivious to what’s around him.

      These two men were that way. Quietly proper without demanding applause or a tip, or even a smile. It humbled me Eileen, it really did. Thanks.

      Liked by 2 people

  4. This post is a jewel, shining in the dark. Who knew protective angels could be subway workers? Your descriptions are perfect — just enough words and not too many. I could easily envy that.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Dale says:

    What a wonderful story to read, Susannah.
    Chivalry is definitely not dead – but do we have to look to other cultures to find it? Their mamas and papas taught them well.
    Truly lovely.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. skinnyuz2b says:

    What an uplifting story, Susannah. The fact that they did it surreptitiously makes these two gentlemen even more noble. Thank you for a positive start for the day.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. aFrankAngle says:

    Cheers to the proper lady in waiting, your two knights, your calm followed by your acknowledgment.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Fantastic post, Susannah. ‘O)

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Vasca Beall says:

    Susannah, I enjoy your writings immensely; what I also enjoy are the comments and the repartee involved…quite enjoyable and also educational. It’s like a group discussion, sometimes with a twist of therapy to spike the punch. It’s refreshing, witty, honest and reflective among many other things. I love it here…I really do!

    Like

  10. Sorryless says:

    SB,

    The timing was perfect. But I don’t think it’s any less common now than it was inside another time. I just think we have so many factors in play- from population to social media; that it makes it easier for people to get lost in plain sight.

    I’m glad yours were standing at the ready for you.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Your guardian angels are Latino, that’s cool. πŸ™‚ Just happened to be there at the right time to keep you safe.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Patricia says:

    It is a blessing to know there are knights out there watching.

    Liked by 1 person

    • There are a few. Had an incident I wrote about I’ll post, when a young man retrieved my fallen scarf. Stay tuned. You’re also very nice to read all these back posts. You could be writing after all. πŸ™‚

      Like

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