It started when I found an extra $20 in the ATM. What was I going to do with this newfound wealth. Considering this amount of money was just over 1/6th of what was in my bank account that I had just drawn from, this was exciting!
But I’m white and was raised moderately wealthy and haven’t struggled that hard and have a job and buy unnecessary glasses of beer and don’t live in darfur and feel lots of guilt all the time so instead of saving it or splurging on an expensive items I said “drinks are on me!” to the table I was sitting with, then quickly amended my statement by saying “one drink is on me for each of you” to the two people who I was sitting with. $20 doesn’t buy you a lot.
But that was nice, right?
I felt the right thing to do when life gives you good stuff – give it those around you. Doesn’t karma then repay you? How does karma work? Why didn’t I listen more when we were studying Buddhism in High School? How come when I type questions into a box that is yet to be published on the internet no one answers me?
I don’t think karma works.
I got on the subway at nearly 11pm and I could see that each car of the F-train that passed by was standing room only. This is rare at this time at night and I felt like my luck had run up for the night until the train stopped and in front of me stood a nearly empty car. Not only were there seats available, but nearly every end seat (the best seats because you can rest your head) was also available.
This was why.
Because a man who had shit all over himself was on that car. The combination of my stuffy nose and blind excitement for my karmic repayment made sure that I was sitting and the doors were closing before I realized the error of my ways. No amount of Claritin-forced nose crusties could stop that stench from penetrating the depths of my brain’s disgusting scent area. The man who had pooped himself was now singing to himself.
The train stopped at the next stop. The mass exodus of other unfortunately unaware til too late train goes began. I stayed.
I wanted my karma to be real. I wanted the seat. I had a stuffy nose just enough that I could deal with the discomfort for the comfort.
One thought on “PoopKarma”
nisse, come to think of it, a lot of your philosophies of very buddhesque. you should revisit that material.