Learning How to Fish

As I was walking to the train this morning a guy came up to me and asked where Remsen Street was. I didn't know.

Once I continued walking, I noticed two busses pull up to a stop right next to us. It was guaranteed that at least one of them would know where Remsen was, if not both. My first instinct was to ask the bus drivers and then go back to the guy (who was walking the same direction as I was, but not as quickly) and tell him how to get there. Then I heard the Al-Anon detachment flyer in my head telling me, "Don't do for others what they can do for themselves."

Then. I thought, it's not like I'd be paying this guy's rent for him. I could have even just said, "Hey! Ask the bus driver." You know ... teach a man to fish and all that. I continued to analyze the .25 second interaction for the rest of my walk. I finally decided I was being insane and that he was a grown man and could find Remsen Street on his own and had long since forgotten that he had even asked me.Moments later I'm riding on the train and have the sweet seat at the end of the car that folds down and seats one person. This seat is the absolute best. It's roomy, it's separated, it's the best. Unless, that is, the train is so crowded that you end up with some kid's backpack resting atop your left shoulder all the way from Borough Hall to 14th Street. As I'm sure you've guessed, that is what happened to me this morning. A woman standing in front of me saw my predicament and gave me that face that says, "That totally sucks. I'm sorry." I gave her the, "What are you going to do?" shrug and continued my crossword puzzle.

After about three stops she looked down at me and said, "Tell him." And I did.

And he apologized and moved it.