The Island of Misfit Toys

Here in the land of misfit toys….

I have been waiting a lot lately. This morning I waited in a long line for my government subsidized metro card and again for my first cup of coffee of the day. I suppose waiting is the name of the game right now. Looking around me at the bland crowd, I realized that this must be the place where all the invisible masses of unremarkable people on the streets of Manhattan must be headed. Walking through the city, I generally only take notice of the beautiful, stylish or outlandish,all the others just kind of blend together. I don’t think I am unique in that way, I bet a lot of people do it. Looking around this hospital I see that I am surrounded by them, their blandness adding to the bleakness of this place.

Taking a closer look you will find that this is not merely a bland way station, it is also a little shop of horrors. There are, of course,the sick and deteriorating old men, but take another look, the employees are not all what they seem either. I used to marvel at the fact that these people had government jobs when they are so notoriously hard to come by. Apparently, other than being a military veteran with a good education and clean background, you can acquire one of these position simply by working here part-time as a High school student and never leaving, you can actually have a severe mental of physical handicap and get in on some other government program, or, my favorite, you can have a serious drug problem and work here as part of your rehabilitation.

Yes, I admit it, when I see them limping around the hospital,screaming unintelligible babble, or even just looking content in their mediocrity, I cringe. Holy shit! Case-in-point: a mass e-mail just went out and it is grammatically incorrect. Then instead of than, I know they have no idea they made the mistake. This type of thing iseverywhere: the letters on the signs are crooked, people useprint-outs with different typefaces, taped over each other to make nameplates. This place is a shrine to minimal effort. I pray that I don’t look like them. The residents, no wonder they walk through the halls speaking only to one another. I don’t blame them for relishing the fact that they are “just passing through”. I suppose I am too, I just wish it were as obvious as their purple embroidered scrubs.

I know I could shine here, but I don’t want to shine in a place like this, where the bar is set so low. I want to shine in a place I can be proud of. I suppose I am afraid of becoming like these people:invisible, boring, old, unremarkable.

The ones who are not total freaks, the normal simple ones, they remind me of a time when this would have been more than enough. I remember being with Steven, planning on moving to Tampa (because he wanted to)and working at the VA there. Simple 9-4:30 work, steady pay, good benefits. All that leaving time to have barbecues and parties with my delightful man. Even thinking about it now, it feels like enough, andit feels terrifying because I remember how he tore himself away from me, the way that in the end it was only him that made that future enough.

I have always had two competing sides: one of them craves the exotic-travel, success, power, novelty; the other craves simplicity- small towns, nothing to reach for except your family and friends, back yard parties and attainable cravings. Which do you think is winning?Somehow simple is never quite enough. It’s like craving a dish and being disappointed each time you eat it, yet craving it again nonetheless. I suppose all that is to say that between the disgust,fear and nostalgia; I am not fitting in here!

I know it’s wrong, but walking through the halls on my way to do rounds, being stuck behind the obese man wheezing then painfully watching the gimpy man struggle to pass, hearing the crazy man scream down the hallways; it always brings to mind the old Christmas song,“Here in the land of misfit toys….” I don’t really remember the rest of it, I just remember the hodgepodge of broken, freakish toys dancing about because there on that island, they were normal.Hopefully, I can get out of here with an ounce of humanity and style,because I have a feeling that if left waiting here too long, I will become the one screaming through the halls.