Friday In America

I was walking home, west off of Seventh Avenue, on Thirty-eighth Street from the subway. I was just approaching the corner when I noticed a man that looked like he was so drunk he was stumbling to the floor. I though, I see drunk people on many nights, but it's a guarantee that on Friday night the corner deli will be filled with people buying beer, and into the early morning there will still be men buying beers for each other. All these workingmen work all week so that on Friday they can drink their pay check.Here was a great example of where that hard workingman ended up. I got closer and noticed that there was a police officer standing above him. I got closer and the first thing to jump to my attention was the position this man was in. When I saw him from a slight distance he appeared to be stumbling down and trying to get back up. Once closer it was clear that this man was down and trying to get up. His thighs were touching and both his thighs and calves were pressed down against the pavement, in the shape of a “w.” In my experience, it is only the young, flexible children that are able to sit comfortably in this position. Seeing this older man, who looked like he could be a skinnier version of what my father will look like in 20 years, I thought that this was not right, he shouldn't be sitting like this. This man appeared to have no control over his legs, reminding me of a cat's death, caused by blood clots paralyzing his leg. I heard the police officer say as he looked down at the man, "You shouldn't have drunk so much you can't even stand up. No, don't get up, if you get up you will just fall back down and crack your head open. Get back down and wait for the paramedics." Then he looked up again towards the street, never expressing one wrinkle of thought or emotion, it was more like watching a robot raise his head than a human being. I looked at the man and then up, I tried to stare into the eyes of the police officer and possibly communicate that he should have some compassion for this man. I wanted him to understand that it was not this man's fault, but rather the fact that he is the victim of a society that drives men to find themselves drunk on street corners. The police officer didn't get it; he continued to stare forward into the street. This was Friday night in New York City, which meant for this older, unhappy man that he got to drink to the point of not being able to feel, and for the police officer, that he had to spend his Friday night patrolling the streets as a myrmidon, emotionless.