OKAY, so today I’m going to institute a new law that should be enforced globally:
When you see someone accidentally drop something, and they don’t realize they’ve dropped something, you need to fucking say something, or at least offer some kind of body gesture to clue the person in.
Today I got off the subway and had to wait on the platform for another train to come. I opened my book bag, fiddled, and then stared out to the universe. Next to me was a man, a woman, and a teenager. Oddly enough, all three of them were staring at me, like something was off but they were unsure how to say it. So after a moment, naturally, they returned to their musings: iPod, kindle, cell phone.
“Hm,” I thought. “Why did those people just stare at me?”
I wiped my nose. Clean. I wiped the edges of my lips – some toothpaste, but nothing worth staring. So then I finally turned in a circle, thinking something around me must be off, and that’s when I saw it... My notebook. My poor, innocent composition notebook, lying helplessly on the ground, flipped open, naked and leaking papers. They were about to blow away with the oncoming train, so I had to quickly kneel down and start gathering things up frantically…It was kind of pathetic. And from the ground I looked up like a beaten dog. The man, woman, and teenager, who had managed to take another five second break from their electronic distractions, we’re all staring down at me. For a second I thought they might laugh.
Now why the fuck didn’t they tell me I dropped my notebook? Seriously. Were they worried I would turn that into some drawn out conversation? Were they worried I’d say, “Fuck you, I dropped that notebook on purpose!”
I think I’m being a little too sensitive about this whole thing (actually, I know I am), but honestly, it made me really sad that these people didn’t tell me I dropped something. And even sadder to think of the reasons why.
This has not been that best start of a day.