October 17, 2010 § Leave a comment
The New New Yorker
I had joked with my friend Jennifer that a large part of traveling was being zen about various kinds of mistakes, and this was one of those moments where I needed zen. For whatever reason, I have one of those body languages that gives off both knowledge and friendliness, because people are always asking me for help. It’s not that I would mind helping, but usually when someone asks, I’m lost myself. I’m the last person who should direct people, especially since I hate being lost and given incorrect information.
This happened today. As I was sitting on a bench trying to decide if I was on the right platform, a woman walked up to me and asked where the nearest elevator was. As I’d never been anywhere near this subway before, I hadn’t the faintest idea, and said I didn’t know. She huffed at me angrily and asked a young Latino man standing near me. After she disappeared I noticed a sign clearly stating where the elevators were (on the other side of the platform.)
And then I proceeded to get on a subway that was an express train, which meant it flew eight stops past where I wanted to get off.