Walking along this afternoon to the train station, I'm doing that thing where you're listening to music on headphones but you're trying not to walk too jauntily in time to it in case you look overtly ridiculous? I'm also doing the thing where you don't mouth the words to a song nobody else can hear. I never ever air play anything either. It's these fools that draw the most scorn from me.
So I'm minding my own business, one two stepping down the sidewalk, mouthing the words to Sing Me Spanish Techno and intermittently wailing on my air Jew's harp when I spot her coming from half a block away.
She's got a paper in her hand and looks like she wants directions. Nobody's biting. Including me. I'm not getting sucked into her tractor beam. I'm halfway past her and tasting victory when she makes it personal.
She reaches out and touches my arm. I cringe at being asked for directions as half the time I don't know where the hell I am, let alone where someone else wants to go and plus, I'm in the middle of a performance.
I have to now remove at least one headphone to find out what she wants. She asks gesturing at her handdrawn map, can you tell me where 1 University Avenue is? This is a cinch. She just walked past it and I'm about to do the same but in the other direction.
I gesture toward the building about 15 feet away from where we stand.
1 University Avenue? It's right there.
No, I don't think that's it.
Yes it is, it's that building right there.
No, I don't think so.
See the sign? The one that says 1 University Avenue?
No, I don't think it's that building.
You're on your own.
And she was.
Reader's Diary #1688- Fran Krause: The Creeps
8 hours ago