The Kindness of Crowds...and why you should fly Jet Blue

Greetings from Typhoid Mary. My wastebasket is full of toilet tissue glued into little balls with spudum adhesive. Still, the show must go on.

I caught my cold in NYC last week--the only negative to come from that trip. During the time that I lived in NYC, I developed an attitude of independence. No one was going to kindly wait for me to look for change while buying my bagel, or give me the space to orient myself on the street. Things keep moving, and you learn to prepare--have your change ready in advance; keep walking, even if you don't know where you are going, to maintain the flow of traffic. I don't expect handouts in that city that kicked my butt. But then, I don't think I gave off any vibes that said, "help a girl out?" either.

This time the city struck me as, well, INVITING, helpful, full of generous people. If I hadn't known I was there for BlogOn I would have assumed I'd stepped into a musical, the rock-opera version of Mary Tyler Moore. "Looks like we'll make it after awwwwwwwwllllllll!"

Case in point: My way back to the airport, I had some time, so I took the A train, as I do to avoid traffic and save $$$, forgetting how much time I'd need. While waiting for the train I looked down at my watch; I had one hour to get there, take the shuttle to the terminal, check in, get through security and get to my gate. With a cheerful denial of reality that I usually reserve for less desperate moments, I thought to myself, "Cutting it close, Jory. Let's hope everything runs smoothly."

A local train arrived and I boarded.

"Scuse me miss," an older gentleman said, pointing to my purse, which I'd inadvertently dropped on the platform. It felt like kismet. Perhaps this helpful man was an omen of a successful journey.

I saw that I had 45 minutes until my flight and I was still only mid-way through Brooklyn. Maybe I could take a cab to the airport when we got closer. "Lady get out here!" some guy with an accent had said, motioning for me to follow him. "You gotta get off this train if you want to get to the airport." He must have guessed where I was going by my luggage. And he was right; I needed to switch trains.

We stood on the platform for another 10, then 15 minutes. I was beginning to sweat. There were only three more stops until the airport, but my flight was leaving in a half hour. As it stood, even if I made it to the airport in the next few minutes I would probably not be allowed to board the plane.

I asked a city worker which platform exit would afford me the best chance of hailing a cab. He pointed me to one, and I ran with my luggage, down two flights of steps, into a neighborhood I'd never been to before. It reminded me of the opening credits of Welcome Back Kotter. There were no cabs there, probably because few people needed them. I asked a lady standing on a busy corner where I could find a cab. She said I probably wouldn't find one in this neighborhood, but then she pointed to an upcoming busy street, where she said I'd find a car service.

While running down the street I saw it--far off in the distance--a cab--about two blocks up from a busy intersection. I ran out into the street to flag it down, stopping traffic, then I dragged my bags onto the median and waved madly like some castaway that saw a ship in the distance. The cabbie took pity on me and stopped; I threw my suitcase in the back seat.

"To JFK, please!"

"When is your flight, ma'am?"

"11:30"

"But it's 11:10."

"I know I know I know. Just please take me to JFK, quickly, if you can."

The cabbie rushed me to the airport. I got out in front of an eerily quiet Jet Blue terminal. I dragged my roll-on suitcase and backpack to the check-in counter.

"Can I help you?" the attendant said, smiling at me. I noticed her name was Danielle.

"Yeah. I'm late for my flight."

"Where you going?"

I told her. She typed something in to her keyboard.

"Looks like it's leaving in 15 minutes."

"Yeah. I missed the boarding time."

"Can you hold on please?" she said. She made a call; I couldn't hear what she was saying.

She hung up and said, "You have any luggage to check?"

"Nope."

"You feel like running?"

"If I have to," I said.

"Good!" she said, "Let's go!" She grabbed my coat and started running in her heels to the security point. For a second I thought, who would ever run for a customer--IN HEELS?--before grabbing my luggage and following her.

We were cleared to the front of the security line. She took off her shoes and threw them in a gray plastic bin.

"You too?" I said. "I thought employees were exempt!"

"All of us have to do this," she said. She helped me get my sweater and backpack back on before continuing our jog to the gate.

Another attendant was waiting at the gate. Danielle hugged me and, handing me my coat, wished me a good flight. It was 11:20

I was still dazed as I boarded. The flight attendants welcomed me aboard and I sauntered to my seat.

"Close call?" said the woman sitting next to me. I was sweating at this point, and still winded.

"Yeah."

"I'm surprised they let you on," she said.

"Yeah," was all I could say. As the plane pulled out of its space and approached the runway I thought of all of the people who'd helped me make it to this point--the guy who saw me drop my purse, the guy who made sure I got off the train when I had to, the woman who pointed me to the car service, the cabbie. Danielle. People I didn't know, that I would never see again.

I felt something that I rarely felt when I lived in New York, when I took things on by myself and suffered nasty looks and missed buses. When I approached mishaps as utter failures. I remember being on that subway platform and realizing I didn't have enough time; in the past I would have cursed myself or been accusatory. I would have called b-friend and told him I would be staying over another night. No way I'd make it all the way to the airport just to be turned away.

I suppose the difference now is that I feel a sense of faith in trying, of placing my energy and intention into something and being OK with it, whether it works out or not. If I'd decided to wait on the train and see what happened, without expelling any energy to get to the airport sooner, I would never have made it. We have to be willing to put it all out there, even at great risk, even if we make giant asses of ourselves, if we're going to get where we want to go. Very often the universe rewards us for the effort.

   

Comments

[Marilyn]

Indeed. :)

[Stacie]

Sure puts Dells to shame on the customer service level.

I can barely walk in heels, let alone run.

[Joy Des Jardins]

Wow honey, we talked about your trip and all, but not about this. I guess you spared me all the "nerve-wracking" details. I was just glad you got home safely and in tact. It's nice to validate the kindness of strangers. Now we just have to get rid of that cold. -Mom :) xoxo

[Elisa Camahort]

I have always thought NY was a generous place. People think it's rude because the sense of personal space is very different. Look, no one's going to apologize if they bump into you or have to sit too close on the subway. But New Yorkers LOVE to help, especially if helping means sharing intimate kowledge of NY.

I'll never forget the time I saw a bicyclist wipe out while riding near Central Park . People ran from all directions to help, direct traffic, get the bike and its parts etc. OK, probably someone ran over there to see if a wallet had gone flying too, but you get my point ;)

[Jen]

I reckon days are either like this, where everything falls into place, or completely the other way. Lucky you didn't have a completely the other way day.

[Manu Sharma]

Reminded me of another incredible story of having faith in trying and giving it all one can.

http://whohastimeforthis.blogspot.com/2005/11/heracles-marathon-to-olympus-athena.html

[Koan Bremner]

Way past the date of this post - which probably shows just how behind with my reading I've got - but I have to say that your concluding paragraph speak volumes to me right now, Jory. Thank you!

Then again, maybe they *wouldn't* have spoken to me, with the same effect, had I read this post when you first posted it. Makes me wonder...

Man, I can't even imagine cutting it that close. I had a great experience with jetBlue as well. I had just booked a flight...what I thought to me an 11:25am flight. I actually hit an 4:30pm flight instead...and went all the way through the booking process with the wrong flight...I read what I wanted to see...an 11:25 flight. I immiedatly called jetBlue and asked them to change my flight with out any fees...they said of course! Amazing customer service.