Like many if not most New Yorkers I tend to breeze through the city “in the zone”.
Laser-focused on finding the path of least resistance to my destination.
Blocking out the city itself with shades on my face.
Deadening it’s uglier sounds via my trusty little white iPod noise-canceling headphones, tucked firmly in my ears.
So why, out of all the people to choose from, do tourists constantly choose ME to ask directions from?
Yanked from my zen-zone by a tap on the shoulder, I’ll turn to see an unfamiliar face, earnestly mouthing… something… important?
I deliberately remove one of my earphones, and say “wha?”
What I don’t say is “…have you NEVER seen an iPod ad? With the dark silhouette with the stark white IV infusing it with all-consuming audio loveliness?”
It’s all good. I don’t mind. And I always help.
But, why me?