The Young Man at the Market

Last week, I had some business at a downtown office building in Baltimore. It was located at an intersection near Lexington Market. Although a large sign described the market as being "world famous", I've never met anyone outside of Baltimore who knew about it.

Anyway, as I circled the market in search of a parking place, I nearly ran over no less than 10 pedestrians. The hoards of people scattered around the market seemed to be oblivious to the passing motor vehicles. Although there were designated crosswalks, no one seemed to care. Instead, they preferred to randomly dart into oncoming traffic in the middle of the block.

With my eyes on the road in front of me and scanning the sidewalks with my peripheral vision, I slowly made my way to the market parking lot. As I began to turn into the lot, a young woman walked right in front of my car, causing me to slam on the brakes. Then, while standing directly between my headlights, the woman stopped and gave me an angry stare for a few seconds.

I eventually made it to a vacant parking space on the lot. As I gathered up my things from my car, I could hear loud, animated conversations all around me. The f-bomb was being being dropped as freely as a set of ta-tas at a Mardi Gras parade. Although this is high crime area, I didn't see any police presence, which made me a little nervous. Walking through the area with a laptop bag on my shoulder made me stand out like a sore thumb. So, in an attempt to strengthen my appearance, I put on a pair of shades. In the past, I've been told that I "look like a cop". I was really hoping that this crowd would think the same thing. And then again, this was Baltimore, where cops are not really perceived as "Officer Friendly" these days....

As I began to make my way to my destination, I heard someone call me from behind.

"Excuse me, sir. Did you see this?", asked a young black man as he touched my windshield with his index finger.

The guy, who appeared to be in his early twenties, was dressed in a pair of khakis and polo-type shirt with a company logo embroidered on the left breast. I figured I was either in for some type of sales pitch or a scam attempt.

I turned around and said, "I'm sorry, bud. What are we looking at here?"

He pointed out that I had "ding" in my windshield. He was pretty confident that this ding would eventually spread out and transition into a full crack across the entire windshield. I explained that this thing had been there there for two years and it hadn't spread yet, so I was willing to roll the dice on it. He pressed on a little more. I explained that I really had to get going. I told him that I appreciated his offer but I wasn't planning on having the windshield repaired today.

As I began to walk away, the young man said,"Ok, sir. Have a nice day. And thank you for not being a jerk."

This intrigued me enough to turn around and ask, "I'm sorry, my man. Why would you think I would treat you like a jerk?"

He explained to me that he was just a young man trying to make an honest living in a shitty neighborhood. He then went on to tell me how many windshields he can do on a good day. He told me that most people callously tell him to "F*ck off" when he offers his services. He also told me that the local black men tell him that he's an asshole and wasting his time "working for peanuts". They tell him that he would be better off slinging drugs on one of the corners and that he'll never get out of this shit-hole.

"These guys who are telling you this....They're the real assholes", I told him.

We talked for another ten minutes and I really developed a liking for the young man. I told him to keep working hard and better days would find him. I also told him not let these losers on the drug corners discourage him. I explained to him that his work ethic and likable personality had the potential to open up countless doors. I encouraged him to keep educating himself because that was something that no one could ever take from him. As our conversation progressed, at times, I could almost see the kid's eyes welling up.

When we wrapped things up, the young man shook my hand and said, "Thank you, big brother. I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me. It really means a lot to me."

As I walked away, I realized that he called me big brother. And that really meant a lot to me.......

kw