Don't Fuck With Chuck

How does something you’ve seen so many times before and have become immune to, suddenly strike you? Homeless, beggars, huffers and drunkards; I have observed that they truly do come in all shapes, forms and sadly, ages throughout Romania. Although, I can now walk by out of habit – because there simply is no possible way to help everyone – the hardest demographic to take in were the huffers, especially the adolescents. Perhaps the initial urge to gawk was because it was new, something I had never seen before but as soon as I saw the 10 year old kids, I was staring out of concern. However, like anything else, once you’ve seen or done something enough, you become immune. I had grown particularly impervious to the huffers around Gara de Nord after seeing one morph into Chuck Norris and judo kick an adult drunkard in the back. A semi-playful pursuit continued amongst this small group and somehow, my aunt and cousin (who had only been in the country visiting for 2 days and were experiencing huffers for the first time), as well as myself, became the “safe” barricade to hide behind. Since then, I’ve further distanced myself (also due to increase of summer odors) and still wondered from afar…how long can they survive like this?

But then it hit me. I was no longer under the spell of Mr. Miyagi. Happy to be leaving București after a prolonged stay, I was not bothered by the rush of city life that I’ve become intimidated by and enjoyed my evening walk to the train station. Pondering, most likely useless things, such as how it will be much cooler in Cȃmpulung, the probability of me not having to pee in the next 10 hours, and whether or not my 5 other bunkmates on the train will be snorers; I approached Gara de Nord relatively untroubled. That’s when I saw a body laying on the ground in front of the entrance. Again, something to which I’ve grown accustomed and is no longer a big ado. His friend, having a huffing bag in one hand, used her other in attempt to either awaken or move him and occasionally pulling up his pants that revealed the perpetual plumber butt. Venturing closer, I noticed the ground around his head was wet from his perspiration but the teenage huffer was out, he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I’m not certain if it was his youth, the empty look in his “helper’s” eyes, people literally stepping over him or simply witnessing the epitome of life that I gratefully will never know but my response was not only emotional. It captured me physically, I honestly felt it heart and soul – the blood drained from my face, the world around me became discombobulated and I broke out in a cold sweat. Other than those occasional morning dehydrations, this type of reaction has only happened to me once before…when I saw grandpa nearly paralyzed in the hospital after falling off the dock. Seeing the most physically fit and active 82 year old man you’ll ever meet, entirely incapacitated was not only devastating but a revelation of my existence – if the one person that I thought could do it all, in fact, cannot…who can? I couldn’t imagine why my body chose that time to react in such a manner for I had seen far worse, including death. And again yesterday at the station, why that particular huffer? For whatever reason it may be, I’m going to take it as a stern personal reminder that not one of is invincible. Not even Chuck Norris.