Thirty Seconds

Photo by Jahanzeb Ahsan on Unsplash

BEEP. 

“Hi, this is Paul from Frontline Progressive Campaigns calling on behalf of the Sierra Club.”

“Yeah, what are you selling?”

“Abstract political concepts.”

“I’m not interested in those either.”

Click.

At least the guy didn’t waste my time. I didn’t want to waste his by lying. You’d think this would be a bad strategy for a telemarketer to have, but it was really quiet efficient. The sooner you identify someone who is or isn’t willing to make a credit card donation, the quicker you can get on to more phone calls.

I'd had enough of telemarketing for one night. This had already been a successful shift. I had good enough stats to keep my job one more day and enough money in my pocket to get me through to that next day. I made my way to the train station and grabbed a window seat near the automatic door. This smug self-satisfaction sat inside me as the BART train glided to a stop next to the platform.

As soon as the train stopped I found myself bearing witness through the train window to a disheveled middle aged man in a rumpled suit shoving a middle aged woman down to the platform right in front of my window. I was shocked, staring at this scene as the automatic train doors opened. As she lay on the ground he began advancing on her. 

My brain was screaming “you have to do something!" I bolted outside of the train car, and quickly managed to insert myself between the man and the woman.

“What the fuck?!” I yelled at the geezer. He snarled back at me.

“Get ou’ the way you cock ssssuuu...” He stumbled and lost focus enough for me to realize he was soused to the gills.

Suddenly I was being grabbed from behind. It was the woman, yelling “no, please don’t hurt him, he’s my husband, please don’t hurt him!” 

I shook myself free of her hold and managed to step aside just enough to see her standing there with wide, horror-filled eyes locked on me. He on the other hand, had fallen on his ass but was still snarling at me.

“Please just leave us alone!” she spit. 

I heard the signal of the train’s doors about to close. Stunned, I managed to step deftly back onto the train a beat before the doors closed.

Thirty seconds between the time I saw this start to happen and the time I realized I had lost my seat to someone who had boarded while all this was going on.

I went to go pick up my backpack, and looking back out the window, I could see the woman had joined the man down on the platform, her arms around him, as they continued to stare at me through the train window.

Thirty seconds for me to go from feeling full of myself and thinking I knew something about how the world worked to realizing I didn’t know jack shit about anything. 

Again.