An Oasis in the early hours of the morning. A dirty street being sprayed by night workers to rid it of filth. The mutterings of crazies & the roaring lion perhaps waiting to devour after the gluttony and plumping up.
She asked him why he wore earplugs? As she leaned over the McDonalds counter awaiting the next order, or weird scenario to come. He told her he was susceptible to noises and the earplugs helped him sleep and function in the noisy clattering, cantankerous World. She half listened as he went to get his straw. She walked towards the back in her hairnet and bland uniform.
McDonalds in New York City could get strange at night. Anyone working there would need a certain degree of humor, and a strong back bone. Several bums wandered through asking for a dollar, 50 cents, with outstretched hands. I had used my last $2.00 to buy a non refillable coke.
After running 7 blocks with my back pack to only miss my bus by 10 minutes. I was on my way to Maryland and my ticket was non-refundable. my phone was low on battery from GPS-ing my way to the bus terminal. I had to get in touch via Facebook with my nephew to have him try to get me another ticket for the next bus. I had to wait five hours. I had nothing for myself and so I had nothing to give the bums.
A lady wore no shoes and went to use the bathroom, she asked me for a lighter in passing. I had none to give. There was a chatty guy named Jason an Australian traveling around with friends. The friends couldn’t hang and apparently Jason liked to party. He was waiting on a guy to bring him Coke, not the Coca Cola kind he could get from the counter behind us, but the drug. He was drunk and had a big mouth, but was mainly polite and a reprieve from the bums begging for things. He had given the guy he was waiting for money before getting the goods. Just a sign to his intelligence I guess. I politely listened and encouraged him to be careful.
A guy was yelled at for showing his butt cheeks the previous night and apparently the staff recognized him at face value this following evening. The staff behind the counter were tough they were mostly Black skinned women and they did not want to see any of this guys ass again. They threatened to call the police, who I knew at least three of were at the Port Authority Bus Terminal on 8th and 42nd street just two blocks down.
There was no dollar menu and no refills, but the bathroom was relatively clean and accessible if you purchased something. It was a better place to wait and charge my phone, then on the hard entry way ground of the closed bus terminal. Strange characters wander the streets of New York at night craving McDonalds along with their other drugs and entertainment.
I found myself cohabitating with them all, the night I missed my Greyhound. No one bothered me though, and I risked walking the two blocks twice because I was in the waiting game like everyone else. Not to say I wasn’t scared, or worried that someone or possibly thing would accost me. I thought to myself Dear God let me, “Be sober, be vigilant, because I know my adversary the Devil as a roaring lion walks about seeking whom he may devour.” 1 Peter 5:8.