the pink politic

Little moments of luck

This morning on the subway, just as the doors were closing, a man leapt onto the train. He just made it. He looked around, beaming, to see if anyone else had noticed his accomplishment. He was so happy, so unabashed in his glances, that it became embarrassing to look up. What if he caught my eye? I would be forced to acknowledge his feat, of course. Would I give a thumbs up? Would I be forced into high-five? I contemplated the possible outcomes, but once I left the subway, I forgot the moment completely.

Until tonight, when Andrew and I took the subway a few stops to the nearest Barnes & Noble. The same thing happened! A man hopped onto the train just as the doors shut behind him. He was so proud. For several seconds, he glanced around with a grin that said, "Did you see that? Wow! I'm awesome!" I hid my head so he couldn't see me laughing.

Upon further discussion with Andrew, he admitted to being a subway super hero once in awhile, too. I don't remember ever having done it, but this is probably because I have a distinct fear of getting squished in between the doors of the train, so if I hear those cautionary beeps, I don't risk it. But most New Yorkers, at some point, will just squeeze into the subway as the doors close.

So what is it about those little strokes of luck, however common they may be, that make us want to share them with someone else? Is it merely the need to show off? Or is it deeper than that? Maybe sometimes luck is so unexpected and lovely that we need to make contact with someone else just to make sure it was real.

And maybe next time I won't be too haughty to look up at the man who jumped into the train at that pivotal moment. Maybe next time, I'll even give a thumbs up.

posted by Tina @ 11:04 PM