Late summer, 1998: The rain was whipping up outside my office windows. Hurricanes rarely impact Philadelphia, but this one slammed into the mid Atlantic states and the affects were felt all over the northeast. Our biggest concern? The phone system used a microwave link-up to its CO, which was only a few blocks away, but every time it rained the whole thing seemed to wink out. Very handy, especially for a newspaper. After fielding internal calls all day from (understanding) yet angry and frustrated writers and salespeople I was ready to call it quits for the night. Eventually the rain would stop, right?
I donned my raincoat and with my umbrella in hand I ventured out into the damp, windy twilight. Walking through Independence Mall I noticed the lack of anyone on the streets, which wasn’t surprising as it was a HURRICANE outside. I crossed the square by the statue of Commodore Barry and approached the corner of 6th & Walnut. If any of you live in this area or have reason to know this corner you will understand when I say the ‘wind tunnel was blasting at full force.’ The way the buildings are situated in this particular place produces strong gusts on even mild Spring and Summer days. Today there were tiny tornadoes of water forming and spinning off into the street in all directions. I looked up and saw one lone pedestrian. “This is going to be a shame, ” I thought.
A woman, not dressed for a mild shower, let alone hurricane induced driving rain, was walking purposefully toward the corner, carrying a full-sized pizza, and what looked like a pile of loose documents and folders, while attempting to balance her umbrella in the crook of her arm. She turned the corner and WHAM. The wind blew the box up in her face, papers scattered and began to blow into the intersection... her umbrella was turned inside out. Desperately trying to hold on the pizza (why?) she tried to right herself, but that led to a very ungraceful tilt, swoop and SPLAT... pinning the pizza box vertically against the wall.
I, in full Boy Scout mode, decided to help this poor damsel in distress. But when I approached she gave me the dirtiest of looks as she attempted to gather the papers within her reach, still holding the pizza against the wall, umbrella flapping in the wind. “Can I help you?” I shouted over the wind. “No, I’m ok! Thanks!” she replied, with a very false smile. I stopped and thought, “What the fuck, lady!?” Her papers were blowing all over the intersection, her pizza was obviously ruined, she was now soaked and her umbrella was permanently jacked. Oh, ok, yeah you’re fine, silly me! “No, let me help you with your papers... just stay out of the wind!” I yelled, then gathered as many of her things as I could. For her part she diligently held that pizza against the side of the building, OUT of the wind, thank god... “So she does have half a brain?” I wondered. Returning with a hand full of soaked papers and folders I helped her restore the pizza to its upright position and pulled her umbrella back into shape. “Thank you,” she said, somewhat begrudgingly. “You’re welcome... just be careful it’s nasty out here!”
I realized what was going to happen as soon as I walked away, but since this woman obviously didn’t want any help there was little I could do. Rounding the corner I was blasted by the wind that was obviously not going to let up. I briskly walked a dozen paces and crossed Walnut Street to the park side on Washington Square. Looking back I didn’t yet see my reluctant aid-victim emerge. Maybe she’d turned around? No.… “Jeez lady, you have to be a friggin’ moron!” I thought as I watched her reenact what had happened not even 5 minutes prior. Umbrella inside out, pizza box flying practically out of her hands... paper scattering. I stopped momentarily but realized I would only make matters worse if I dared help her again.
Not my pizza. Not my problem. Not a brain in her head.
I was soon home, wet and starved. I felt only a tinge of guilt as I dialed the phone and ordered - "One large pepperoni & mushroom... yes, for delivery."
