“I am a fucking human being”

“I am a fucking human being” he exclaimed. There I sat in the middle of the upper deck of the 38 on my way back from comedy night at the Vespa lounge with Kerry. To the front of me were about 6 Asian men, sitting, occupying single places, bantering away in their own languages. Behind me sat a coloured man and a lower middle class white woman, to whom he was obviously trying to pull. In walked a skin head- late 20something man with a tattoo of a dragon that went from the front of his ear right on round to nearly his forehead. Complimenting this he had another tattoo of a small crucifix that sat right in between his eyebrows.

First there was a bit of commotion between this man and the fare collector. I was quickly relieved to discover that there was no conflict, and the proper fare was paid. The man with the tattoos was obviously rather sauced - and up for a bit of conversation. The reluctant fare conductor listened to the man as he started to pose his question. “ What do you think about this fucked up shit that has been going on lately?” The cautious Middle-Eastern fare collector skirted the question and tried to continue on collecting fares. He looked like he feared initiating some sort of fight with this daunting looking man.

I apprehensively waited for the conversation/response to transpire. I kept flashing my attention to the animated Asian conversation unravelling in front of me. There I sat, the passive observer, hoping for the best and expecting the worst… There was a slight lag in the conversation to the rear of me, broken swiftly by the fare collector asking the tattooed man if he had change for a 20£ note. Quite an odd exchange I thought to myself. The skinhead did indeed have change; during the exchange of monies the tattooed man took the occasion to prod on to the collector about what was clearly occupying his thoughts- the recent bombings in NYC. As all this unfolded, I started to realize that what I was witnessing was not brooding aggression on the part of a drunken racist, but a boy, a scared human being who just wanted to be comfort through an ordinary conversation. “ I am a fucking human being and I don’t care what the fuck god you or I believe in. What those fuckers did was wrong”.-he shouted.

At that very moment I felt very aware of how blatantly I pre-judged the tattooed man, and this entire incident. Everyone on that bus was indeed human; the fare collector who very diplomatically declined to debate, or take responsibility for a small sub-group of terrorists who may just by chance, share his religious beliefs. This was very fair. Just before I got up to get off, having missed my stop, the tattooed man exclaimed “ I feel like I’m going to explode with all the emotions I have inside me right now!” At that moment, time stood still. Then, with the blink of an eye, the Asian men snapped back into their conversation. I exhaled and thought how important it was that I absorbed this moment. I had learned so much … and how much I could sympathize with the man that I so swiftly miss-judged… How much I wanted to escape into the unknown secrecy of the Asian conversation… That’s when it hit me. Yes, think. We are all fucking human beings and perhaps, they too were discussing the recent turmoil’s. It was too late I was already one stop too far, and at that point in time I had to get off the bus.

thoughts? write me- sj_chick@yahoo.com