Hello all you lovelies!
So, my day-to-day travel hasn't been too interesting lately (aside from a little magician man last week who isn't really worth much more than this little parenthetical citation), until yesterday!
I was on my way home from Avenue J in Brooklyn on the Q train, stopped at Atlantic Avenue - a mere two stops away from my destination - when these rowdy school children got on the train. They proceeded with the typical subway performer behavior, which need not be reiterated, as I have discussed it numerous times. Needless to say, the kids could dance.
But moving on...
Now, while I was on this very same journey, I had a very interesting, and rather heart warming encounter that would make any philanthropist proud.
I'm not going to try to beat around the bush with this, or make it sound any less weird than it is, so here I go:
I sometimes enjoy deciphering the omnipresent "private conversation" despite the lack of privacy in a subway car (before you judge me, you know you all do it also).
But the fun part for me is in the fact that:
I speak French.
I speak French well.
I sometimes even think in French.
With that said, I remained mildly attentive as this middle-aged French couple was talking on the train. Much to my disappointment, I missed the meat of the conversation, but whatever.
So, we get to City Hall and I got off, along with the couple, and as I was walking up the stairs, I couldn't help but notice them fumbling with the wonderfully cumbersome MTA map.
At this point, the bigger person in me came out and I turned right around, and headed down those stairs with a smile and a polite, "excusez-moi."
After a few seconds, my French directional words came off the back shelf of my brain, and I was well on my way to helping this lovely couple to their destination: Bleeker Street.
That, ladies and gentlemen, was my good deed of the day.
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