An Asshole’s Kindness
The guy wanted to be a jerk – and for a while he was. But then, he wasn’t.
I drove 503 miles from my house to downtown Pittsburgh this week.
It was for Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, so every goddamn mile was justified.
But around this occasion – one that in the end felt even more momentous than any other Springsteen show I’ve been to before (and there have been many) – I had a moment that I can’t stop thinking about.
I did the drive in one day, and I did it on the day of the show. I probably should’ve flown like a couple of my friends I was seeing the show with, but ultimately, I thought, well, I can pay either $500 for a flight or $100 for gas (thanks, Honda Accord Hybrid!) and just power through. At 50 years old, this was still probably the wrong decision*, but one that, now that it’s over, feels pretty good.
(*The rock from the truck that caused a chip in the windshield that led to a long, creeping crack on the drive home will make this math work so, so much less in my favor. Should’ve flown. Grrrrr.)
As usual, I’m taking too long to get to my story.
Upon arrival to downtown Pittsburgh from North Carolina, I found our Airbnb, but I also found no parking. There was confusing street parking around, and any public lots or garages seemed pretty far away. So, near the apartment, I pulled into a private lot just to collect my thoughts, look at my map on my phone and to try to figure some things out. I kept the car running.
A guy from a printing company across the street hollered at me.
“Hey!” he said shrilly. “You can’t park there. It’s private. I saw you on my camera. Private lot.”
Somehow, maybe because I had my senses dulled from driving the entire south-to-north length of wild and wonderful West Virginia, I didn’t pop off back at him. I actually just said back, “Hey, bud, no worries, I just drove into town and I’m trying to figure things out. We stay right over there and I don’t know where to go, but I won’t keep the car here. I’ll move, no problem.”
He waved to that, turned his back and swiftly went inside the office.
A few minutes later, I found a lot up the hill that looked like it offered $50 or $80 overnight parking.*
(*Again, should’ve flown.)
As I was pulling out, the man came out of the office building and waved at me again. I pressed the button to bring my window down.
“Hey, lookit, what’s your deal? How long you staying?”
“Just the night. Seeing the Springsteen show. Leaving in the morning.”
“Got it. Got it. Hey, listen, how about this? This is my lot for my customers and employees, OK? It’s private. I pay for it. And I gotta camera on it, so that’s how I saw you pull in. But they tow here, especially off the street. They’re real strict. How about this? Keep it in the lot overnight, but just move it over to my spot on the street over here in the morning. Like, early. But then you’ll be fine. No charge. And no ticket or tow, neither.”
And he smiled.
I thanked him, introduced myself and where I was from, and thanked him again.
And that’s when he hit me with it.
“Yeah, I normally wouldn’t do this. But when I saw you earlier, you didn’t tell me to ‘Fuck off, Asshole,’ or nothin’. So, I figured you had to be a good guy.”
I laughed, but couldn’t help but think immediately, “God, he must hear that a lot.”
He then motioned up the street. “See that building up there? That white awning? You like corned beef sandwiches? Best corned beef sandwich you’ll ever have. Check it out.”
With that, he tapped the hood of my car with a thick thumb and told me to enjoy Pittsburgh and don’t worry a thing about the car.
Two days later, home and comfortable, I looked up the address on Google of the Airbnb and clicked the street view to look around. I found the name of the business and sent this email to the info contact:
So, not sure you were the gentleman I met on Tuesday afternoon as I was trying to find a place to park for our Airbnb, but I wanted to try to drop a line and let you know how much I appreciated your kindness and generosity in allowing me to park in the private lot across the street as we spent the evening in Pittsburgh this week for the Springsteen show. Your – or your employee’s, if it was someone else – wonderful gesture removed a lot of trepidation and worry and allowed me to more fully enjoy the time spent there and the experience.
I just wanted to say a more formal thank you to let you know how much I appreciated your effort. And you were right, that was the best corned beef sandwich I’ve ever had.
Wishing you well, and thanks again,
Alex
Six minutes later, I got a reply:
You have sent this to the right person and I enjoyed your kind words. Steve
If you have any printing needs in downtown Pittsburgh, I highly recommend Steve Schwartz Associates, Inc.
He’s a good guy.
Postscript
OK, a few Springsteen notes:
I’m not eloquent enough to do what Steven Hyden did and fully explain the momentous nature of this tour, this show and the context to which Bruce and the E Street Band performed. All I can say is it’s the best Springsteen show I’ve ever seen.
Springsteen’s crowds are always good, but I’ve never seen such a connection between artist and crowd – especially when it was 20,000 of us – like this. There were tears, dance, joy, anger, hope, fervor and fight everywhere. It was immensely powerful.
Yeah, so this is as close as I’m ever getting to politics on here. But, as I wrote on the Book of Faces the other night, I’ve been fortunate to have a lot of heroes in my life, and they include my dad, my mom, my wife and my daughter. And Bruce Springsteen is another.
Jake Clemons feels like an institutional E Street Band member more than ever.
Early in the show, Bruce did Darkness on the Edge of Town. His delivery of the third verse (“I’ll pay the cost!”) and the howl at the end is something that will stay with me forever. My buddy Mike turned to me and said, “Oh my god.” It was a moment that let me know, ‘Oh, damn, we’re in for something special.”
I don’t think I would’ve ever believed I could see The Boss and not hear any of Thunder Road, Backstreets or Atlantic City and not miss them at all. That’s how powerful this was. Of course, getting Murder, Inc. helps…
American Skin (41 Shots) was probably the best, most haunting performance of the night. Bruce’s guttural vocal, “You get killed just for living…” at the end, repeated five straight times with no music or sound anywhere around him or in the arena, all while Jake stood over his right shoulder holding his hands up, is the vocal and visual I will never, ever forget from this tour.
Walking out, a guy said, “I fucking loathe Trump. But at least he gave us this.”
Wore a Gaslight Anthem t-shirt, of course. And got a comment! A guy – older than me! – said as we were in line to get into the arena, “Hey man, I love Gaslight. I saw them on the last tour. Better than ever. Saw them for the first time in 2008, or ’09.” To which, I said, “Ah, so back to Sink or Swim and The ’59 Sound,” and the guy responded, “HELL YEAH!” What a great world we live in sometimes.
Good people live in Pittsburgh. So glad you had that experience.
Never had a bad day in Pittsburgh. Seriously great folks.