Crash

You have to see this movie.

I took it personally. I have had some Crash-type moments in Chicago...this week, in fact. Certainly not the same level of drama this movie musters, but some definite examples of my perception not being reality in this city.

A group of high school boys in do-rags and jerseys seemed a little out of place on my street in the middle of the school day, and when I crossed over the street to avoid breaking up their crew, they crossed over too. I panicked, stopped, and raised my voice on the cell phone conversation I was having until they got in a suburban and drove away. They were probably going to McDonald's on a lunch break, and I'd made them out to be gangsters.

The other day on the CTA red line, I found myself alone in the train car with a man staggering in my direction. He stopped just ahead of me and saw what I was eating.

"Snickers, eh?" he said.

"Yeah. Would you like one?" I asked. I had one more in my backpack.

"You're kidding," he said. "Sure."

As he ripped into it, he asked what I was studying and seemed genuinely interested in my being a theology student. Turns out he's a Transportation Safety Administration official and a basketball referee; if I hadn't been so busy labeling him black and drunk and the only person in my big scary train car, I would have seen his badges.


Note: For spelling's sake, I googled do-rag before finalizing this post today (10/24) and learned that a do-rag business in my home could be my ticket to financial freedom!