I look at my incredibly intelligent cousin, polite but badass floormate, down-to-earth but frickin' cool Broadway star, high school best friend, and even Cheesecake Factory waiter, and I say, Damn Michael, you're awesome! Why can't all guys be like you?
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When I started my internship not too long ago, I wasn't expecting to be friends with anyone. I was only going to be there for a few months, our office was kinda secluded and everyone was just in their own little space. I didn't know when I would ever have the opportunity to befriend anyone. Plus, I was content at the daily visits I received from my friends who were still in school there...
Then the elevator broke.........
Now for someone in a wheelchair, this is a DISASTER. I'm stuck on the second floor of my building at 5:oo PM when I need to catch the 5:15 train so that I could get to where I need to go by 6. My boss had left and wasn't answering her phone and the front desk receptionist was gone. Great...
Little did I know that the broken elevator would turn into a miracle in disguise. Out comes the guy who's gonna help me get out of the second floor through the physically-connected apartment complex, down two steps, and out of the building, like 50 million more times throughout the next three weeks thereafter. You could probably guess what his name was. Yup... alas, I made a friend.
Who would've guess that a guy can still be a gentleman these days... as in like soooo nice to a point where it's like, ummm... are you sure you're not like a robot programmed to make girls swoon at the sight of you? What's the catch again? I'm utterly confizzled.
After days of not seeing him, as the elevator has thankfully not broken down for a while now, another sour moment in time would turn sweet.
Remember the Oscar Grant murder case and how that dumbass BART police officer shot him when he was utterly defenseless? Well, prior to reaching the verdict last July 8, we got an email stating that we need to be careful and prepare ourselves for possible rioting and whatnot (which btw happened intensely on the streets of Oakland that night).
Well before going home, I had to turn something in to the front desk and whattayaknow, here comes Michael.
M: Hey! How's it going?
O: Oh... ya know
M: Haha that's cool, I guess.
O: Haha, well just trying to figure out when I should go home...
M: Oh... where's home?
O: Well I have to get to Concord by BART
M: .........oh.... hmmm... BART's probably dangerous
O: hahaha yeaaaah... well... no choice here
M: hmmm... well I live in Rockridge. I don't mind taking the BART til then if you want
O: .........*dumbfounded*......what?
M: Yeah, when are you leaving?
O: I dunno, soon... sometime between now and 5:30?
M: OK, well can you give me like 20 minutes? Lemme just pack up my stuff then we can go.
OK, first of all... for those of you who don't know, Rockridge is like a 15-minute bike ride away from the Brower Center... and he had a bike!!!
When asked why he's taking BART with me after finding out that he never takes the BART to get home, he replied:
Well, I just wanna make sure you're safe.
GAH! Why is he so nice?! He volunteered to ride a potentially life-threatening train with me for $1.75 to a place that he would've gotten to in half the time just to make sure that I was safe. Granted that absolutely nothing happened while I was on the train, it was still an incredibly sweet gesture. I think he's a good guy.
Hence, I stand by my statement when I say that most, if not all, of the "Michael"s I've ever encountered are like the best people ever.
And if one of these "Michael"s are reading this, all I can say is this: Wow. You're ace.
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