"How The Other Half Lives"

When we were kids, people used to say--when they observed others buying expensive cars or taking luxurious trips: "Well, that's how the other half lives."

Tonight, I'm recalling that same line, but with a different spin on it--realizing now that I'm among the fortunate, prosperous half--as are we all.

1.

The desk clerk here is a smart, handsome man in his twenties.  When I walk in or out, he says, "Hey Linda!"--and I call him by his name.

After I gave him a Christmas card, he's been even more talkative.  "How are your floors going?" he wants to know.

"Another delay," I say.  "Looks like I'll be living here a few more days."

He smiles.  "Well, I'm sorry about your floors, but I'm glad you're staying longer."

Tonight when I went down to get ice, I asked him about his career goals, and he told me he only had an associates degree, but he wanted to be a fitness coach.  "You can't do much with an associates degree," he said.  "And the course for training would be $700, at least, maybe more."

He only makes $800 every two weeks at the motel, and his 3-hour-a-day Uber driving gig has a downside: the cost of wear and tear on his car has made it worth less than he could get for it if he sold it.

"There's something I can tell you about me that you don't know," he said. "I usually don't tell people this--well, I guess because who cares really?--but I want to tell you."

He pulled up his pants leg.  "Both my legs are prosthetics," he said.  "I was born with a birth defect and had to have both legs amputated as a baby."

He can't stand for more than 45 minutes--so he can only work jobs that allow him to sit when his legs start hurting.  And he wants to be a fitness coach!  He has a friend who mows lawns for $60 a yard, and he wishes he could do that.  Maybe, he says, if he could mow lawns or do physical labor, he could make enough money to get his training.

2.

We had to stop talking so he could check in the next guests: a mother with three children. When I got into the elevator with them, I noticed that each of them had neatly combed hair and that the youngest girl had a soft but almost pleading look on her face.  I thought she wanted to talk.

Instead of suitcases, they each carried a white plastic trash bag filled with clothes.  The little girl had her own flowered pillow and a stuffed animal.

"Where are you from?" I asked the little girl.

Her one-word answer and the pained look on all their faces said it all.  "Here."

Clearly, they were escaping something dangerous at home, finding a night of respite at the Best Western.

3.

After I gave the housekeeper a little money in a Christmas card, she started leaving me notes: "Where did you buy these shoes?" "Thank you very much for the present." "I won't be here tomorrow so someone else will clean your room but I will miss you."  "I like the things you are making."

I can tell that the notes are carefully and painstakingly written by someone not accustomed to writing.

4.

The "other half" includes people doing menial jobs to pay the bills, families running away from danger, clothes stuffed into trash bags, young men who can't afford  the training they need to follow their dreams, a young woman leading a stranger to her room, a recent immigrant from Mexico who smiles all the time and "loves" his job of washing sheets and towels.  

"Your Christmas card," the desk clerk said, "Is probably the only Christmas for me.  My mother doesn't speak to me anymore ever since I caught her stealing some of my money."