- Dec 30, 2009
- Reaction score
What's with the weather? How bout them Yankees?
STYLE. COMMUNITY. GREAT CLOTHING.
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Meanwhile after 20something years in DC I'm seriously considering moving back to NY. I couldn't do Queens again thoughI don't think I'm long for the city.
Today, after a meeting, I popped into the Trader Joe's on 72nd and when I was next in line for a cashier I watched some guy walk up from the side and go a cashier that just opened up. I pointed this out to the line matron but she just shrugged. As fate would have it, I was put beside the reprobate. He passed me on the way out and I asked why he jumped the line in front of 40 people.
"Are you a cop?"
"Yes. Answer the question."
"Why are you confronting me?"
"Because you acted like an entitled prick and there are people waiting."
"I have an emergency!"
"An emergency that requires the timely purchase of TJ's Triple Ginger Snaps and yoghurt?"
"I'm on a mission!"
He fled and I headed home. Here it gets worse.
As I walked past Sylvia's, a guy with his hands his coat pockets and his elbows out, leaned over and elbow smashed a passing young tourist in the midriff. She doubled over as the asshole kept strolling along. I made sure she was okay, for what that's worth, but didn't confront the guy. Feel like shit about that. I'm sure it wouldn't have ended well for me.
This is not what I want out of life.
I lived in the city and Brooklyn back in the 1960s. Back then we considered Long Island City to be BumF*ck and a Sh*thole.They have been saying Long Island city is up and coming for 20 years. Other than two blocks of a couple eateries and no grocery store nobody wants to actually live there and nobody wants to visit anybody that does.
Yes, although now they are saying it because amazon is bringing 25,000 rich people to work there. Prolly gonna change things a little.They have been saying Long Island city is up and coming for 20 years. Other than two blocks of a couple eateries and no grocery store nobody wants to actually live there and nobody wants to visit anybody that does.
10/10. Would read again.It takes place in NYC so I'll put it here. (Warning - long story.)
On Friday afternoon, I receive a call from my oldest friend who lives in Canada. He tells me that I need to drop everything and pick him up in the Bronx and to please ask no questions. After a few attempts to find out what was going on - "no, please come quickly," I hop in my car and drive to Bruckner Blvd where I find him in a gas station, hugging everyone and flashing a few thousand dollars. He is not himself. (Kudos to the attendant who didn't call the cops or shiv him.) I suss up the situation quickly and take his money for safe keeping. He asks me to text his girlfriend, "exactly this - your car is safe and on Bruckner Blvd." She texts me back, "I want my car, purse and money, immediately." After a few minutes, I finally get him outside and into his girlfriend's car. It seems that they came to town for a cruise leaving Sunday but had a fight Friday afternoon and he fled their hotel with her car and purse. Shit happens in relationships and emotions can run high but this was something else. He is physically and mentally spinning ... "I pinch myself and it hurts, real, I pinch myself and it doesn't hurt, fake news, I need to get to Mother Earth and pinch her to see if she is real or fake news, text C and say her car is safe in the clouds and I am in infinity and beyond" spews out in a stream of words. But then there are moments of clarity.
He won't take her car fob as he thinks the police are after him so I ask him if he can follow me to my place to drop off my car then we can deliver the GF's car back to the hotel. He seems to be able to function and agrees. We get to the valet at the hotel and he hands the guy the purse in the car but I insist we take it in to the desk. We are met by security. I ask to speak with her but she won't talk to me so we leave the purse and I count out $1000 for her. My friend seems to function better in a crowd under social constraints so I suggest we go to a bar for a drink. I text my wife and ask her to make up the guest room and be prepared. The conversation in the bar is fairly straightforward though he keeps up with the steady stream of words and Matrix theories. Then he dumps candle wax into a wine glass and gets us kicked out. I text my wife to give her a better sense of what's going on as we cab it home.
That night, he's walking in circles in my place talking non stop. I repeatedly call the GF but she won't answer my calls. My wife becomes "Mother Earth" to him. Fortunately, she can handle it and him. I finally get him to bed at midnight and he sleeps the night. We sleep fitfully behind a locked door.
A little background. He is very smart and was a successful medical professional. He sold his business for 8 figures and retired at 50. Owns multiple houses, cars, etc. Very generous and kind guy. Not a violent bone in his body. Known him for 50 years. I have a lot of tolerance for him.
The next morning he comes out of his room and he's a little worse. I figure I should get him outside in the hopes that maybe a long walk will blow out some shit. I'm considering options - a hotel is out of the question and I think that the best bet is to get him on a plane back home. If necessary, I will fly him. We circle Central Park for hours talking. He asks random people if he can hug them and surprisingly, everyone says yes. Power of the hug. A guys asks us for a buck and my friend hands him a $100. He had some money that I didn't know about so I suggest I keep it with the rest of the money as they will feel safer together. He agrees.
I ask him to tell me stories about the old days and that seems to focus his mind. In the interim, I reach out to the GF yet again and tell her that she needs to come and help me as he is real trouble. She finally responds by text to say that he's a big boy and he should check into a hotel. I explain that he's not quiet sane right now and she tells me to call his brother as she intends to board the cruise.
We return to my apt and he is getting a little more agitated. He walks out my front door and tries to enter a neighbour's apartment. I grab him just in time and whisk him back into my place, then read him the riot act. It has no effect and he is getting more frustrated. I tell my wife to hide all the knives in the kitchen. I want to distract him with food so order some pizza and then reach out to the NYC Mental Health line and his ex wife in Canada - another medical professional and bring her up to speed. She tells me to call 911 as it will be the best thing for him and us. Apparently, this behavior started at Christmas and has been getting progressively worse. I knew that 911 was coming, I just wasn't sure where the line was as I was in new territory. The pizza still hasn't arrived and he began to get very agitated. I try to calm him to no avail. He starts to scream, "if your wife doesn't put the pizza in front of me by 9:22 last Thursday ... I will hurt that cat." There's the line. I step in to block him from moving and tell my wife to go to the bedroom, lock the door and call 911. I manage to convince him to come to his bedroom, lay down and we can have pizza there. He agrees and a few minutes later eight cops have surrounded his bed and we are all trying to talk to him. One of the cops tells me that there's an easy way and a hard way, but we'll try the easy way first. I explain to my buddy that I want to take him somewhere safe where he can get some rest and I would love it if he held my hand and walk out with me. He agrees but then begins to flail and fight, and the cops slam down on him, wrench his arms back and put on the handcuffs. He is screaming as they carry him out to the gurney. My wife is now bawling.
It's been about 30 hours since his first call.
EMS tells me they will take him to Harlem Hospital where they have a psych evaluation department and to call in a few hours. I get in touch with his brother and nephew in Canada and tell them they should fly in asap. They agree and book to arrive at 7:00 am.
At 1:00 am, I call Harlem and they have no record of him. Wait, what? How can I find someone in the system? She tells me to call 311 as they have a record of everyone taken by ambulance in the city. I do so and they tell me Harlem Hospital. I call back and go through a few people and finally get a guy who says, "I can't really tell you anything, but by your description he might be here." WTF? He left my place with a wallet and passport so I'm not sure why this is so difficult. I really don't want to tell his family I lost him.
The guys arrive the next morning and head straight to the hospital. He's there, thank God. The doctor tells them that they are one hour away from my buddy being admitted for 72 hours but he will release him if, he takes a certain drug prior to the trip and they drive home. I go rent a car for them and we get him into the car at 2:30. He's drugged up and calmer, though still off. He hugs me to apologize and they take off on an eight hour drive. At about the halfway mark the drugs wear off and he starts talking about saving people. His nephew tells him that's a great idea and they should go to the hospital where there are a lot of people who need saving. I had his ex wife arrange to admit him at the hospital and as they pull up he's met by a few family members. They walk inside where two cops take over and he's finally admitted. When they won't let him save anyone he gets angry and is put in isolation. There isn't a lot of information coming out at this point.
I hope the girlfriend is enjoying her cruise.
The weird thing is that after it was over I came down with a severe sadness and a dip into depression that I just couldn't shake. I keep running scenarios over in my mind - what could have happened to him if I wasn't there, what could I have done better/differently? Finally feeling a little better today.
Anyway, that's what I did this lovely weekend.