Human Kindness

About once every month I get this loving feeling for people I don't know. It usually happens when I am somewhere very public and if the people that I am seeing are particularly ugly or plain. That is, I rarely get this feeling at a club where everyone is rich, thin and partying, if you know what I mean. On bad days I want to weep with the weight of other people's seeming mysery, their glum faces. But other days I want to hug everyone and tell them how great I think they are. Yesterday was one of those days.

Going home on the tube in London I sat staring behind my new glasses. Sitting across from me all in a row from left to right- a perfect collection of what humanity has to offer. I felt my heart grow with love for my fellow man in all of his imperfect glory, melancholy, variety and plainness.

On the end sat a punk, a real one. Given that punks died in the 80's, this one was obviously a little worse for the wear, 40 something and still holding on. He was incredibly bloated in the face with red eyes and what I believe was a gut underneath his leather jacket. He was clutching a Guiness bottle and a sleeping bag roll. He had tatoos on his knuckles, two nose rings and wonder of all wonders a pin of a cat on his jacket underneath one that read 'Nazi punks fuck off.' I smiled at him which was not returned, but I understand. To his left sat a slightly hefty, middle-aged woman still trying. She had on those terrible trendy quasi-winter boots and a jean skirt over thick, sausage casing panty hose. She had a large, gold-cross around her neck, yellowed, spiky hair and was concentrating deeply on her trashy romance novel.

Tucked into their seats, not taking up any space, sat an Asian couple speaking loudly knowing no one could understand them. Middle-aged and wearing matching running shoes with their slacks and cardigans. She looked to the left when talking. He looked at the floor. A mom and son jabbered on next to the Asians, not as loud, but more animated. Mom looked like fun, but unforgivingly ugly in a very British way. She was of the tomato- on- toothpick variety with huge tits, a round middle and skinny legs imbalanced on those little ballet-slipper shoes. Her gobbler jiggled as she laughed her thick, smoker's laugh. Her son looked gay with acne scars, but hilarious. They had just been shopping and were talking about what they found. Fun!!Completing the menagerie,tucked up against the glass, sat a bull dyke. She had the posture of someone who is too tall even though she seemed really small. She was concentrating on finding something on her i-pod nano. I was concentrating on her immensely sunken breasts which were not helped by her lack of bra and bad posture. She snuck away at the next stop without my noticing while I was watching the punk sip his beer, probably thinking about his cat.

And so it was. My heart swelled for a few minutes and then contracted again not knowing where to put all this emotion for people of no consequence to me. I'll probably go back to not noticing until this time again next month.