Just practicing politics as usual

When you're noticeably pregnant, people are nice to you. Pretty much everybody. Even your grade-A NYC asshat stops being so asshatty. The mere presence of the baby-bump creates an atmosphere of benevolence and humanity which makes it so only a true psychopath would, say, steal your cab. It's ingrained to be nice to the pregnant lady, to give her respect. Even straight-up gangstas sweetly call me ma'am and hold up the doors on the train so I can squeeze inside, and give up their seat. And the usually polite get even more kind. During last week's heatwave a few bodega employees offered me a bottle of water, gratis, as I passed. The week before a security guard spied me hopping foot to foot, twelfth in line for the ladies room, and commandeered the underutilized men's room for me to have all to myself. "Take as long as you like, I'll make sure no one comes in." he said, then gave the eleven women who had been ahead of me the 'you should be ashamed of yourselves' look.

But I can't help but find some of this kindness depressing. The newfound good will coming from anyone who had been or would normally be rude or dismissive, particularly so. I want to say that I hate to be reminded how our cruelty to one another is a choice, that pregnancy brings out our real instinct toward brotherhood and decency and courtesy, but it isn't true. It's that Americans loves themselves a fetus. Goddamn do they ever. I haven't suddenly become worthy of charity, the potential human life in my body has. And he is deserving of kindness, sure he is. But I deserve it too, and so do we all.

To say, it was really nice of you mister, offering me a free water on a hot day, but pardon me while I pass it on to the homeless guy you side-stepped to hand it to me.