Dirrrty money
The weirdness that was my Wednesday...
So, I just got my hair cut & I'm making my way from 57th & 6th to 55th & 8th -- slowly, since it's only 1:35pm and my mtg doesn't start until 2pm. BOOM! A woman teeters around & falls to the ground, as a car grazes her backside making a turn onto 57th.
Yes, I saw a person get hit by a car. This is the first time I've ever seen that happen in this pedestrian-ruled city I've lived in for 12 years; much less, in my life. I have, however, seen an accident in NYC once before - sort of. I was in a taxi on my way to JFK at 6am, and the driver starts pointing to his rearview mirror, babbling something in his language with shocked wide eyes. So I look over my shoulder, and I swear I was watching a movie stunt - as we round a curve on the highway leading out of the Midtown Tunnel, a car doesn't quite make the same curve and literally flips up & over several times, seeming to float 10 feet up in the air, presumably travelling at least the highway speed limit. I can't believe what I've just seen, call 911, report our location & what I think I've seen, and continue on to JFK as if we'd just seen nothing more than a wild commercial. But I digress...
I run over to the woman lying in the crosswalk, positioned in lane 2 of 6 that span 57th St. Two other men seem just as committed as I to staying beyond the requisite "Are you OK?" One turned out to be the woman's husband; the other, just another stranger like me. She says the car 'hit' her (again, making a turn at a busy pedestrian intersection; so, not driving very fast), causing her to bang her head on the car, teeter around & fall on the ground. I didn't catch the full 'hit', but saw the teeter. I thought she had hit her head on the pavement (which would be, in my imagination, equally as painful). Waiters from Rue 57 ran out to tell us they called the police. A cab driver heading the opposite direction jumped out of his taxi to stop the woman in the hit&run car who seemingly had no idea anything had happened. He and about 4 others chased towards her to get her license plate # and flag her down.
She eventually pulled over & ran out towards our huddle, arms flailing about, literally screaming in a most annoying stereotypical New Yorker voice, "Oh my gawd! Oh my gawd! ARE YOU OK??? This is my worst nightmare! I've always feared this would happen! I didn't see her at all! Oh my gawd! She shouldn't have been walking out like that! I couldn't see her! Are they going to tow me??" This overly made-up, frosted tipped bouffant from Long Island, I presume, with manicure & oversized sunglasses to hide the sags & wrinkles just waiting for the next facelift... well, she wasn't exactly the focus of anyone's empathy at that moment.
Anyway, I covered her up in my wool coat, in case she didn't realize she was going into shock. By the looks of her husband (early 70's), I'd guess she was in her 60's. I tried to make light conversation to reassure her that she was safe. The couple was visiting for a few days, with tickets to a 2pm B'way matinee. The police arrived, most of the crowd disappeared, then renewed with new gawkers' curiosity, then disappeared again. Meanwhile, the other stranger - gray-haired, chubby Queens-type, wearing some movie or play's embroidered jacket - he started conversation with me. Yup, right over the poor woman.
"You did real good, hon. Real good. Where you work? Oh, yeah? What do you do? Oh, I used to be in publishing too. Worked for Time Warner, with the videos. Production. I'm in movies now. Where you from? What part of Ohio? How old are you? Oh, you're just a lamb, a young kid. You got a card?" and on and on. Since I didn't have a business card, it could've ended right there. But nooo, he figures to tell the poor victim's husband, "She saw the accident. You should really get her info, you know, in case you go to court. What's your number, hon?" So, I gave him the cell #, and he handed that scrap of paper to the husband. While this fella is making nice-nice with me, I'm trying to comfort the lady, b/c I can just imagine what it must feel like to have 2 strangers talking over you about where the female lives & what line of work she's in. I couldn't get this fella to stop & focus on her.
So finally, the ambulance arrives & I remove my coat, as the husband thanks me for my generosity & time, hugging & kissing my cheeks. The stranger introduces himself - John Goldman - wouldn't ya know it...? Looks like he could be related to my ex, and even has the same friggen' last name. Ick. He decides to escort me to wherever I'm heading, repeating, "You did real good back there, real good."
SIDE NOTE: is it so strange that someone would stop & stay with an accident scene until s/he knows the person is in the safe care of police & ambulance? I guess maybe in NYC, it is. It didn't feel like I was doing anything remarkable. But again, only her husband, I and this stranger who seemed to focus more on me than the victim stuck around.
John says, "Let me take you to lunch!" I kindly decline, saying I have to make my 2pm meeting. He pulls out a $20, and presses it into my hand, not letting me push back. Says, "Well, then please treat yourself to lunch. No! Take it! You have to - believe me, I'm lucky. Take this money & it'll bring you luck." Luck? I don't know about that. I mean, it did bring me John. Oy. And isn't that the most appropriate name for a situation such as this? I wondered, should I feel like a prostitute accepting this money? For what? Not for doing a good deed, but for allowing this "close-talker" to stand closer & closer towards me as I edge away, his hand once landing on the small of my back (one of my favorite sensitive spots)? Grrrr.....
Then John asks, "Hey, what's 6 inches long, has a big head, and every girl wants?" Hiding my mortified expression (he is a stranger, after all - from a friend, I could accept that joke w/o batting an eye), he chuckles and pulls out a $100 bill. "Hehhh, I don't know you well enough to tell you the other version of that joke!"
He goes on, "I'm a producer," rattling off names of some action movies & shticky-Jewish-type actors he's managed (Elliott Gould? Wow. I'm mesmerized. Tell me more.) "I don't know if or how I can help you, but maybe there's something I can do for you. Where you live? Me, I've got an apartment here in the city, but I live up in Westchester. Call me," and he gives me his info & we part ways.
11/15 - Geico insurance just called me asking for a recorded statement. After we finished, he basically said I probably couldn't help them much since I didn't see the actual impact. Uhhh, yeah? The split second of impact: I was facing the accident, but I didn't see it cuz folks were obstructing my path and I wasn't exactly looking for an accident. But I saw everything from that split second on - how the victim teetered & hit her head, the driver kept on driving... What a litigious society. Semantics.
So, I just got my hair cut & I'm making my way from 57th & 6th to 55th & 8th -- slowly, since it's only 1:35pm and my mtg doesn't start until 2pm. BOOM! A woman teeters around & falls to the ground, as a car grazes her backside making a turn onto 57th.
Yes, I saw a person get hit by a car. This is the first time I've ever seen that happen in this pedestrian-ruled city I've lived in for 12 years; much less, in my life. I have, however, seen an accident in NYC once before - sort of. I was in a taxi on my way to JFK at 6am, and the driver starts pointing to his rearview mirror, babbling something in his language with shocked wide eyes. So I look over my shoulder, and I swear I was watching a movie stunt - as we round a curve on the highway leading out of the Midtown Tunnel, a car doesn't quite make the same curve and literally flips up & over several times, seeming to float 10 feet up in the air, presumably travelling at least the highway speed limit. I can't believe what I've just seen, call 911, report our location & what I think I've seen, and continue on to JFK as if we'd just seen nothing more than a wild commercial. But I digress...
I run over to the woman lying in the crosswalk, positioned in lane 2 of 6 that span 57th St. Two other men seem just as committed as I to staying beyond the requisite "Are you OK?" One turned out to be the woman's husband; the other, just another stranger like me. She says the car 'hit' her (again, making a turn at a busy pedestrian intersection; so, not driving very fast), causing her to bang her head on the car, teeter around & fall on the ground. I didn't catch the full 'hit', but saw the teeter. I thought she had hit her head on the pavement (which would be, in my imagination, equally as painful). Waiters from Rue 57 ran out to tell us they called the police. A cab driver heading the opposite direction jumped out of his taxi to stop the woman in the hit&run car who seemingly had no idea anything had happened. He and about 4 others chased towards her to get her license plate # and flag her down.
She eventually pulled over & ran out towards our huddle, arms flailing about, literally screaming in a most annoying stereotypical New Yorker voice, "Oh my gawd! Oh my gawd! ARE YOU OK??? This is my worst nightmare! I've always feared this would happen! I didn't see her at all! Oh my gawd! She shouldn't have been walking out like that! I couldn't see her! Are they going to tow me??" This overly made-up, frosted tipped bouffant from Long Island, I presume, with manicure & oversized sunglasses to hide the sags & wrinkles just waiting for the next facelift... well, she wasn't exactly the focus of anyone's empathy at that moment.
Anyway, I covered her up in my wool coat, in case she didn't realize she was going into shock. By the looks of her husband (early 70's), I'd guess she was in her 60's. I tried to make light conversation to reassure her that she was safe. The couple was visiting for a few days, with tickets to a 2pm B'way matinee. The police arrived, most of the crowd disappeared, then renewed with new gawkers' curiosity, then disappeared again. Meanwhile, the other stranger - gray-haired, chubby Queens-type, wearing some movie or play's embroidered jacket - he started conversation with me. Yup, right over the poor woman.
"You did real good, hon. Real good. Where you work? Oh, yeah? What do you do? Oh, I used to be in publishing too. Worked for Time Warner, with the videos. Production. I'm in movies now. Where you from? What part of Ohio? How old are you? Oh, you're just a lamb, a young kid. You got a card?" and on and on. Since I didn't have a business card, it could've ended right there. But nooo, he figures to tell the poor victim's husband, "She saw the accident. You should really get her info, you know, in case you go to court. What's your number, hon?" So, I gave him the cell #, and he handed that scrap of paper to the husband. While this fella is making nice-nice with me, I'm trying to comfort the lady, b/c I can just imagine what it must feel like to have 2 strangers talking over you about where the female lives & what line of work she's in. I couldn't get this fella to stop & focus on her.
So finally, the ambulance arrives & I remove my coat, as the husband thanks me for my generosity & time, hugging & kissing my cheeks. The stranger introduces himself - John Goldman - wouldn't ya know it...? Looks like he could be related to my ex, and even has the same friggen' last name. Ick. He decides to escort me to wherever I'm heading, repeating, "You did real good back there, real good."
SIDE NOTE: is it so strange that someone would stop & stay with an accident scene until s/he knows the person is in the safe care of police & ambulance? I guess maybe in NYC, it is. It didn't feel like I was doing anything remarkable. But again, only her husband, I and this stranger who seemed to focus more on me than the victim stuck around.
John says, "Let me take you to lunch!" I kindly decline, saying I have to make my 2pm meeting. He pulls out a $20, and presses it into my hand, not letting me push back. Says, "Well, then please treat yourself to lunch. No! Take it! You have to - believe me, I'm lucky. Take this money & it'll bring you luck." Luck? I don't know about that. I mean, it did bring me John. Oy. And isn't that the most appropriate name for a situation such as this? I wondered, should I feel like a prostitute accepting this money? For what? Not for doing a good deed, but for allowing this "close-talker" to stand closer & closer towards me as I edge away, his hand once landing on the small of my back (one of my favorite sensitive spots)? Grrrr.....
Then John asks, "Hey, what's 6 inches long, has a big head, and every girl wants?" Hiding my mortified expression (he is a stranger, after all - from a friend, I could accept that joke w/o batting an eye), he chuckles and pulls out a $100 bill. "Hehhh, I don't know you well enough to tell you the other version of that joke!"
He goes on, "I'm a producer," rattling off names of some action movies & shticky-Jewish-type actors he's managed (Elliott Gould? Wow. I'm mesmerized. Tell me more.) "I don't know if or how I can help you, but maybe there's something I can do for you. Where you live? Me, I've got an apartment here in the city, but I live up in Westchester. Call me," and he gives me his info & we part ways.
11/15 - Geico insurance just called me asking for a recorded statement. After we finished, he basically said I probably couldn't help them much since I didn't see the actual impact. Uhhh, yeah? The split second of impact: I was facing the accident, but I didn't see it cuz folks were obstructing my path and I wasn't exactly looking for an accident. But I saw everything from that split second on - how the victim teetered & hit her head, the driver kept on driving... What a litigious society. Semantics.
posted by NY-sunshine @ 11/11/2005 01:37:00 PM
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