This is a true story. My sister told me about this time a snobby and condescending lady asked someone for directions on BART. Did she get help? I'll let my sister tell the story:
It was already 6:45 am, and I had no worries! As long as I jumped on that BART train that happened to arrive at that very moment, I was destined to make it to the Montgomery Station on time. Of course, I anticipated yet another typical Tuesday morning commute to the office. However, little did I know that I would play such a vital role in the laws of nature on this southwesterly windy morning. I would be a part of the very essence of what some can find minimal solace and comfort in whenever the evils of this world hold them prey; a very key witness of what many call "KARMA".
I picked the second row from the rear, which nowadays, is a force of habit for me. It’s not too close to the train doors where people go in and out and gather around, and not too far from the back, where you might get too comfortable and fall asleep. To my right I spotted a rich, suburban couple a few rows in front of me dressed in leisure attire; two brand-new pieces of Louis Vuitton luggage sat strategically at their feet. A young Chinese lady sat quietly behind the couple. Her big wool coat overpowered the bright purple and yellow fitted clothing that covered her slim, frail frame. Another man in the distance was asleep and strewn across two seats. All was typical on that train car, until the silence shared between BART riders was broken.
"Harold!" the lady in the blue summer dress shouted, "Well, didn't you check the map? What time are we supposed to be there? SFO shouldn't be too far away, right? We ARE in San Francisco, right?"
"I'm pretty sure that this is the right way. Don't worry, we'll make it to the airport on time," Harold whispered calmly. I could tell in his eyes that he would give his left arm for his middle-aged, loud-mouth wife to speak just a little bit softer, to salvage their own embarrassment and the amusement of others. What I wouldn't give to have had a camera at that very moment, to be able to take a picture of Harold, a middle-aged man dressed in faded khaki shorts and a dark patterned shirt, and his angry wife in her baby blue spaghetti-strap summer dress, both sitting on the "Reserve for Handicap" seats on this Fremont-bound BART train. Behind them, a giant, vividly color-coded BART map with all the destinations. Yes, they were lost, and the answers were all behind them; all they had to do was turn around. They were undoubtedly frustrated with each other. Coming from Balboa and feeling that morning's chilly air, I was certain they were freezing in their fun vacation attire. It was priceless!
"Well, Harold, we can't just sit here and do nothing. We need to be sure!" she shouted scornfully. "Ma'am, hello!" She waved like she was trying to test the eyes of a blind person. "Do you know if this train is going to the SF airport?"
The thirty-something Chinese lady she was shouting at appeared startled and confused. "Uh, no, I go to dance crass, " she responded kindly. Her Chinese accent was heavier than the SF fog.
"What?? No… I’m asking you… is this the right way to the airport?!" she replied, failing at her attempt not to sound too frustrated.
"Um, dance crass, on Varencia Street. I going there," said the Chinese woman.
"No, we're asking you...which way to the airport," Harold jumped in quickly, almost as an attempt to hinder his wife's fury.
"Solly, I no understand what you ask," she whispered.
"Well, what is it then?!" the wife imposed. The impatient woman no longer attempted to be courteous. "Is this going to the airport or not?!"
"Solly," the startled Chinese lady answered, "I don't know." She smiled softly displaying an unconditional gentleness and kindness, regardless of how rude her female interrogator had been. At that point, she was aware that she was not responding in the way that the angry woman wanted her to. Harold looked at his vicious wife and shook his head, delivering an unspoken message for his wife to calm down. A long three minutes of uncomfortable silence dawned on them. I could feel the thickness of it from where I sat.
Just then, we reached the 24th Street station, and the doors opened slowly. The Chinese lady stood up and quietly walked towards the train doors. She stopped and turned. At a final attempt to display no hard feelings, she said to the couple, "Solly...um...have a nice day!" and smiled at them as she left the train. The couple said nothing.
I couldn't help but feel so bad for the young, fragile Chinese lady. She remained sweet and respectful, regardless of the rude lady's demeanor. So, here I was on this Fremont-bound train car, with Harold and his wife - smoke fuming from their heads. This couple, on their way to the airport to enjoy their upcoming tropical vacation, was getting further and further away from their destination, and they had no clue!! They were well on their way to the east bay after three more stops in the Fi-Di. "Should I tell them that they're going the wrong way?" I thought to myself. "But they were so mean to that poor Chinese lady! On top of that, they're completely unapproachable with all that anger on their faces."
"Harold, the flight leaves in 45 minutes," the wife said softly but angrily. Harold's face began to bear an expression of more worry as he shook his head. They sat there in bitter silence. It appeared that they decided to take their chances and sit put to see what happens.
"Powell Street station!" the BART operator shouted. "Powell!"
"Oh no!" I thought, "What do I do?! Should I "do unto others.." and tell them that they're going the wrong way? But they were so mean to that poor lady!! Will they treat me with an equal lack of common courtesy?"
"Next stop, Montgomery Station!" the operator shouted over the loud-speaker. It sounded like my conscience.
At that point, I decided I would not approach them to help. Rather, I would get up and stand next to them while waiting for the train doors to open, and give them the opportunity to try again. If Harold or his wife were to ask me that essential question that they needed to have answered, I would definitely help them. I would tell them what I knew, and what they desperately needed to know. They were on the wrong train and going in the wrong direction!! I stood up and walked over to the train doors, almost with a great sense of "I know something you don't know" and with a small sense of indecision. I waited and waited, but they said nothing to me. Harold and his wife began bickering, more quietly this time, about how she shouldn't be so frustrated, and that everything was going to be fine. Little did they know that things were potentially about to get worse for them.
"Ask me," I thought. "I can help you."
At one point, I felt their stares on me, sensing that they wondered if they should ask this young, short, stylish Filipino girl. "Would this Asian girl know any more than the last one?" they must've thought. "Would she be able to help us in any way?"
The train slowed as we approached Montgomery. "Ask me," I thought. "This is your last chance! In five minutes, you'll be well on your way across the bay to Oakland! Ask me!" I felt my heart racing at the thrill of anticipation. "I'll tell you", I thought to myself, "I'll tell you if you just get over yourselves and ask me now! I won't take the initiative to go up to you and tell you because you were SO AWFUL to that poor lady, but I'll tell you if you simply ask me. When this train stops, you'll miss your chance, your flight, your vacation, all of it...so ASK!"
"ASK!"
"ASK!"
"Montgomery station!"
....and so this situation is cold, hard proof of the truth. A testimony of that which is like every BART train that goes around our greater bay area. They always come back around. So, be nice to others, and maybe some won't be nice back to you, but guaranteed that others will be. =)
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