I didn't drive on Ash Wednesday. I intended to attend the 6pm mass at St. Agnes close to Grand Central. As it turns out later I would not make it, and instead I walked from the Port Authority to the 6:30 mass at St. John's, which is sort of SFC New York's home church.
At the bus station, I met this interesting girl. I'd say she's just the typical white all-American girl -- charming, vibrant and bubbly (other people may have their own ideas of the all-American girl...). Apparently, she left her car at the parking building that connected to my office building (where I myself park. The bus stop is right in front of my building, so if I'm not driving, mass commuting is a good alternative.).
Anyway, she came up to me to ask when the next bus was coming in and I told her we'd be catching the 5:20pm. Then, after a short silence she started gushing.
"I'm actually going on an audition for a recording contract!"
Her name was Lauren. She sang in clubs around the city, she told me. She's been performing since high school.
"Hey, do you wanna hear it?"
And right there and then, she sang one of the songs she wrote. She was 23 now, and she was also taking lessons from a voice coach. "Buy nowadays I'm broke, so I stopped," she laughed.
We chatted for a while on the bus.
"You have a day job?"
"Yes," she hesitated.
"What is it?"
"I'm a server. In an Italian restaurant."
"I see."
"I have a 'day-day job' but I actually earn more as a server."
"Yeah, I heard the tips were good."
She nods vigorously. "Yeah."
Silence.
"It's a tough job, I heard," I started again. "I have a friend who's a server at the Olive Garden. When he's in a crappy mood he blames his job. Cranky customers."
She seemed to relate. We ceased talking and I fell asleep for a while.
At the Port Authority an hour later, the girl was panicking. She was late. She was meeting with friends before her audition.
"I'm going to rehearse in my friend's van," she laughed again. She laughed a lot. "That's my life right now."
23 years old. At that age, I was in Manila one moment, and then the Silicon Valley the next. The early 20's is a quaint phase in the average person's life, I think. That's about the time people enter the real world. It's also a great time to carry your dreams with you.
I was late for the mass at St. John's myself, but I walked along 7th avenue at a leisurely pace. Walking through NYC gives you a good reason to reflect. It's a joy -- even in the cold weather.
It was 7pm. I was now in front of Penn station And Hotel Pennsylvania at this point.
7pm right? Now, at about thirty minutes from then, I thought, I would be walking out of a church with dirt on my forehead -- assuming I'll make it to that part of the mass. Thirty minutes from now, the girl I briefly met will either have her recording contract or just go home with a broken heart. Along with her, so many people in New York alone will have their own dreams crushed or fulfilled. Thousands will be born and thousands will die. It's all a matter of perspective.
As if right on cue, the song I was listening to on my iPod ended as I walked up the church steps. I pulled out the phones from my ears and entered -- and found the queues for the giving of ashes shrinking. I ran.
I made a bee-line for the main priest but someone cut across my path. I scanned the sides and found someone with an empty queue, waiting. It was our Bro. Sal. I smiled a little and walked to him.
"Remember Marvin, that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."