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Tuesday, November 14, 2006

To The Men Who Saved Me From Myself Yesterday

Crossing L Street at a grey, drizzly afternoon hour yesterday I had my head buried in the Treo screen and was only peripherally keeping an eye on the street. Seeing out of the blurred corner of my eye that the two men who'd been waiting on the opposite side were heading across now, I stepped off the curb and started toward them. Idiotically, I never really lifted my eyes from the screen, and in a nanosecond realized that I was stepping into the path of a dump truck; that the two guys had been paying attention and had time to get across before it lurched through the still-green light and that I had no such time. Without yelling or even saying a word, one of the men heading toward me realized what was happening and put his arm across my body to restrain me from stepping further into the truck's path. I was speechless and couldn't think fast enough to thank him. He headed into the National Association of Home Builders, where I can only assume he works behind an office door marked "Superman."

Then last night I crossed that same street to meet up with my significant other, fearing I was about to step into the path of another dump truck as it were. There was something I needed to talk to him about, something that had been causing me to lose sleep and a bit of sanity and my health, because I'd been fretting about it and afraid to say anything. Ironically, although I get paid to communicate for a living, I am not an apt communicator where matters of the heart are concerned. Anxiety doesn't get aired. It goes into a compact ball in my stomach and my stomach and I have a deal worked out in which we never speak of it again. As such, I assume typically that worries unaddressed are worries that don't cause problems. Now, I've used this space to poke a bit of fun with the S.O. from time to time, and he has suffered it all with good humor. So it is only fair that I say that as we walked home in the gloomy chill last night, he reminded me, without even trying to, why I fell in love with him in the first place. He listened patiently as I said what I had to say. He did not interrupt or launch into a Hamlet-esque soliloquy at the corner of Connecticut and K about most pernicious women. He did what he does best. He gathered me into a hug that smelled like Ivory soap and wool, and he kissed me on the top of my head, and told me he understood what I was saying and everything would work out.

Here's to the ones who put their arms across us, and around us.


Anonymous etcetera said...


BB - shhh... can you hear that? I think it's your mom sniffling. here, have a tissue Momma Bird.

2:58 PM  
Blogger Kathryn Is So Over said...

Very sweet. Excellent post.

3:32 PM  
Anonymous Sweet said...

A refreshing story to hear, it's nice to know there are people like that out there.

4:14 PM  
Blogger Ar-Jew-Tino said...

So you're saying I shouldn't get a Treo, right? The Princess will be happy.

4:30 PM  
Blogger Brunch Bird said...

Thank you all. It was an oddly nice couple of things to write about.

Ar-Oh, I'm not saying that at all, my friend. It's like God himself created a gadget, and it was the Treo, and it was good. I'm saying that you need to buy a helper monkey to escort you across busy streets, alleviating the need for you to pay attention to anything ever again. Incidentally, I can give you the number to my helper monkey guy.

6:17 PM  
Blogger Freckled K said...

I agree - very sweet.

6:30 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Funny you should post this today because I have been thinking about getting a Treo for the past week or so. So you recommend it? Better than the Q?

[and yes, i realize that wasn't the actual point of this post, but I'm all tunnel vision about myself right now]

9:05 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

OK, I just went back and read that again and yes, I agree. It's beautiful. I can definitely relate to the part about being paid to communicate, but not being able to do it when matters of the heart are concerned. It was like it was ripped right out of my head.

9:09 PM  
Blogger Brunch Bird said...

Alej-Hee hee, I like a girl that puts a gadget first. I love it, although mine had this weird habit for like a month of resetting itself. That seems to have stopped now. My cheekbone sometimes hangs up calls when it hits the dial-pad screen. Also, be advised that the service isn't cheap. Just to use it as a phone is standard charges. But for phone/Internet/text messaging it's about $120 a month. (The quality is really good though if you get the Verizon service, so I don't even have a regular phone at the house, I just use it as my full-time phone.) I can't live without mine. Isn't that terrible?

10:09 PM  
Anonymous Daddy-O said...

I'm surprised none of the previous comments mention the fact that you were saved from doom by your "guardian angel" only days after your two Jesusland postings.
Believe me, both the unknown man and your significant other will be in my prayers tonight!

11:23 PM  
Blogger E :) said...

Wow! Where did you get a guy like that? Tell me so I can find a similar one!

12:01 AM  
Blogger Brunch Bird said...

E- (smile) Texas. They're not grown like that anywhere else. I got the last one of him though.

12:28 AM  
Anonymous monkeyboy said...

Well, there are two more of us, but we're both off the market.

Big brother (aka SO) is the best.

2:42 AM  
Blogger Ashburnite said...

wow...really, really great post. and it sounds like you have a "keeper.'

3:41 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

That's the sweetest thing, and a wonderful thought to start the day off with, so thank you. It means a lot to know there are still decent strangers in this city!

2:05 PM  
Anonymous etcetera said...

yess! monkeyboy aka bro of S.O. has weighed in. please please pleeeease can S.O. start commenting? (or is he already and i dont recognize his moniker?) i promise not to bring up the unzipped fly episode if you start commenting!

2:50 PM  
Blogger WiB said...

BB: Maybe your helper monkey guy isn't someone you should be sending referrals to.

Just sayin.

4:00 PM  
Blogger Brunch Bird said...

Monkeyboy- And with you and S.O. it's not just "off the market." It's "off the market because of redheads," which is a whole 'nother level.

Ash and View- Thanks ladies!

Etc- Ya sound like BHR. Wait, is that BHR?! Just kidding. Um, as a reporter, S.O. is steadfast in his committment to never deliberately landing himself on here. Won't even comment anonymously. He regards the morning breakfast table as his chance to "leave a comment." As in, "That post about my fly being down that a couple thousand people read? Priceless. Thanks for that." Then he goes back to reading the op-ed page.

5:43 PM  
Anonymous etcetera said...

boooooo! i plan on launching an endless campaign of harrassment til he starts commenting.

(oh, man. that does make me sound like bhr. i'll rethink my strategy. i'll be kind and encouraging. but earnest. less stick - more carrot. you reading this, S.O.?)

8:45 PM  
Anonymous Kim G. said...

Two guys cop a feel, and get thanked?!

8:49 PM  
Blogger Brunch Bird said...

Kim- Are you really from NOW? Because if not, the link from your name is genius. And if you really are from NOW, I'd love to hear more from you on this point.

10:51 PM  
Blogger honeykbee said...

Maybe it was Scott Bakula zipping around through time who saved you from the dump truck?

4:01 PM  
Blogger Brunch Bird said...

Now that you mention it, there was some guy in a suit standing nearby with a caluclator he kept calling "Ziggy."

4:48 PM  
Blogger minijonb said...

I almost killed myself on the street in London once like that - I looked the wrong way - my superheros that day were Wonder Woman (JJ) and Daredevil (Doug) who grabbed be my the back of my collar to drag me back away from the path of a lorry.

11:51 PM  

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